Chasing Shadows
by musicalsoul85
Summary: Jane leaves Boston and her girlfriend Maura to keep her friends and family safe. Will she return and fight the corruption in her city, or remain nothing but a shadow in the past? Rated T for now due to language, will probably end up M soon. Reviews appreciated. Sadly, all characters involved do not belong to me, rights go to TNT, Tamaro and the wonderful Tess Gerritsen.
1. Chasing Shadows

'_Did you ever love me? Did you ever care for me at all? Or was it all just a cruel joke?'_

Those were three of the last sentences she ever uttered to me. Three of the shortest she's probably said since before she could talk. Actually, sometimes, even now, I wonder what she was like as a baby, as a child. Sure, she told me little things, like how the other kids would chant _'Maura-The-Bore-A,'_ at her, and I know for a fine fact her so called _'parents'_ were barely more than whispers in the wind, blowing in and out of her life as and when it suited their extravagant lifestyle, but I suppose what I really wish is that I could have been there. For all those lunch hours spent alone in the library, for every tear she had to hurriedly wipe away before anyone saw, for the cold nights she had to put herself to bed and fall asleep without even a simple kiss on the cheek goodnight.

We ended up outside the night I said goodbye. It was dark. It was so dark that if I dared to turn round and break eye contact with her, the only light would be that of the moon. In fact, the moon was shining down strongly that particular night. Maybe it felt like it had to, seeing as the darkness desired to prevail against it. So it beamed down and kept the darkness at bay as much as it could. I respected that. She was standing above me, in the doorway, bathing in the ethereal glow of the porch light. I felt like I was on stage, performing. Perhaps, in a sense, I was. Only this performance was one that could never end, this performance had no curtain call.

Maura was above me in every sense of the word, literally, metaphorically, spiritually. Maura Isles is on a whole other level compared to Jane Rizzoli, everyone knew that. I drink cheap beer; she drinks hundred year old expensive wines. I rotate between wearing the same ten shirts to work and she has a seemingly endless supply of beautiful, tasteful clothes. Somehow, god knows why, we gravitated towards one another. Two lost souls stumbling around in the dark with no moon to guide them. We found each other and became attached, so much so that, often, I forgot where my being ended and hers began.

Maybe our shared dependence upon one another transformed into our ultimate undoing, for if it wasn't for the way we were so inexplicably intertwined, mind, body, heart and soul, we probably wouldn't have ended up this way. It took time for our relationship to finally blossom into what I left behind. Time, patience, a lot of agony, but we got there eventually. After years of telling ourselves that whatever we might feel underneath, past the love we assuredly did have for Ian and Casey respectively, couldn't possibly mean anything, could never become something more. Ours was a different love, one that was more of a disease than anything else, and I know that isn't the most romantic of descriptions, but Maura's the wordsmith, not me, so it'll have to do.

It was rooted in our very foundations, we each burrowed through the other's defences without it ever being addressed, without ever really bothering to consider the repercussions further down the line. And it started to eat us from the inside out.

It started with arguments and jealousy. I couldn't help but instantly hate every possible suitor she lined up in front of me for my honourable inspection as her best friend. _'Isn't he handsome Jane? Isn't he such a gentleman Jane? Isn't he so interesting and knowledgeable Jane?'_ No, no, and a resounding no. And Maura? Well her disdain wasn't as plain to the naked eye. She couldn't help but try and smother her own implausible disgust for any man that came into my life and stayed for longer than usual, namely, Dean and Casey.

It bubbled just beneath the surface for years, until it slowly started to push its way into our lives. Arguments occurred, words were said and immediately regretted, and we pushed each other away, too terrified to lose our precious friendship over something that shouldn't happen between best friends. After that god awful day in the warehouse when I shot her sperm donor father, Paddy Doyle, and the consequent months of hell and hatred, I convinced myself nothing could be worse than that. But I was wrong. At least we had a concrete, unavoidable reason to be angry after that day. The weeks of cutting remarks, passive aggressiveness, backhanded comments and subtle sniping that seemed to go hand in hand with the aftermath of Casey's injury and operation was something that neither of us could control. We became strangers. Familiar, professional strangers.

In all the daydreams I would find myself indulging in a little too often, not once did I ever imagine our first kiss being born out of rage and frustration. Some punk ass kid got friendly with his fists and I refused point blank to go anywhere near a hospital, so Frost drove me to Maura's. One cold, pissy look from her and I lost it. We argued for over an hour before we both calmed down enough for her to treat my facial wounds. That moment changed everything. We were both white faced with fury, there was still blood clotted in my nose and mouth, but when her eyes drew level with mine I recognised myself inside them.

I recognized the sight of another woman who was tired of hiding her true feelings with superficial relationships, who was tired of fighting, and who was slowly drowning. And I'd like to say it was a deep, loving, sentimental moment where time stood still and choirs of angels burst into song inside my head… But I'd be lying. There was blood in my mouth and it hurt when she pressed her lips ferociously against mine, and it was badly angled so teeth clashed and noses bumped, but to us, it was pretty much perfect. It was relief mixed with desperation, it was rage weaving itself into forgiveness, and it was love and passion finally, after too long, breaking free.

It wasn't all plain sailing after our first kiss. We had to build our relationship, which had suffered so much, back up again. It didn't take as long as I had feared, thank god. But it took a hell of a lot longer for everyone to accept us as a couple. It was difficult at work. I damn near got myself suspended after that prick Crow made a vile comment about Maura and I decked him with one punch. Cavanaugh was furious with us both. I had my ass planted on desk duty for a solid month. Tommy, who I suspect still had feelings for Maura at that point, didn't take it well when he first heard. Frankie was shocked, but as always, he came through for us quickly. Frost and Korsak barely batted an eyelid. In fact, I'm pretty sure when we told them, they high fived as we left the room. Ma... Well, it can't be easy for a Catholic woman to suddenly have to amend her beliefs so late in life. She managed it, and she grew to be so incredibly happy for us, but it took time. Pops appeared on the scene out of the blue one day, and when I told him, he just looked at me; all disappointed, and said _'Oh Janie.'_ I guess it hurt, but by that point I was beyond caring what anyone else thought of us. Maura made me so happy I could hardly contain myself. And let's face it, the advice and opinion of a man who fucked off with a woman half his age, and with about as much sense as Jo, aren't exactly what I would call valid.

I had everything planned for that night. What to do and say and when to do and say it. Frost and I went over the story about a hundred times, drilling it into his brain almost as much as mine. For the plan to work, it had to be one heckuva convincing story, and luckily, Frost was good at creating that sort of thing. When my mind went blank and I panicked, fretting that I would never be convincing enough, that Maura would see through my act and presenting it to the wider public would be fruitless, he fed me lines. I guess he was sort of my prompt, you know those people who sit in the wings by the stage and help out the actors when they forget their words? That was Frost. I definitely owe him, not just for being my prompt, but for being my only confidant during that time. Not that it's likely I'll ever get the opportunity to repay that debt. We forged a plausible tale, one that even I found myself believing now and then, when the lines of reality and fantasy blurred.

We considered a great many things before deciding on the story that has now become my life. We tossed around the idea of faking my death, but that was soon deemed too far fetched and impractical. Anyway, if Maura had her way she would have insisted on an autopsy, just to check for herself it was me lying in some cooler. She would want to see my heart lying still inside my chest before she truly believed I was gone. We thought about simply staging a disappearance. That one night, I go out for a run and just… Never come home. Again, we had to dismiss that. It would gain far too much attention and news coverage. Our colleagues would want to look for me, of course they would. It would start a goddamn frenzy, imagine my Ma! God almighty I don't even want to think about it. Frankie and the team would knock on every door and pound every sidewalk looking for information, looking for me. We couldn't risk them exposing what was really happening.

We couldn't risk anyone finding out why I really had to leave. No, it soon became clear that the only way I could leave, and not have anyone come after me, was to turn myself into a pariah. Maura had to hate me, my family had to at least be disgusted and angry with my actions, and leaving had to make me a coward. That way, nobody else would be at risk, and my story would remain infallible.

I sound like fucking batman or something don't I? _"The hero Gotham deserves but not the one that it needs,"_ or some bullshit. Being alone for all this time does things to your mind, I can vouch for that.

I didn't have a choice. You have to trust me on that one. If there was any other way, if there was even the slightest chance that something else might have worked, I would have given anything to stay. But in order to protect her, I had to leave. I had to turn my back on her and disappear. For the only way I could ever ensure that Maura Isles didn't come after me, didn't come running into the dark at my back just like she's always done, didn't hunt my sorry ass down to the ends of this very earth… Was to make her believe I no longer loved her. And not only that, but to convince her my feelings had always been questionable at best, and that she had amplified them herself.

It is cruel.

It is vile.

I hate myself every day for what I've done.

And in the eleven months, fifteen days and nine hours since I left her standing on her porch alone in the darkness, I haven't touched, never mind glanced at, another human being in a romantic sense. For me, it was always Maura, and it will always be Maura.

At least inside my head I can still love her.

I spend my waking and resting hours in a state of constant high alert. I may have left Boston, but the threat hasn't left me. The people who want me dead won't just stop because I'm no longer around. They're powerful and ruthless. A dangerous combination. To silence me, they were willing to go through Maura and my entire family.

That's why I had to go. I had to lure them away from everyone I love. But they'll probably always be one step behind me. That's why I never stay in one place too long. I'm always on the move, from one shitty motel, rented apartment, tiny rooms with barely passable utilities, onto the next. I work odd jobs to make just enough cash to survive. Having a plumber for a Father finally came in handy.

The sensation of being observed, like a specimen under Maura's microscope, and being hunted like some weak animal, never dissipates.

It hangs loosely around my neck. A noose waiting to tighten at any moment.

When I look in the mirror on the rare occasions there happens to be one wherever I'm staying, I scarcely recognize the woman gazing back at me.

I look haunted. I look jaded. I look old.

Detective Jane Rizzoli is but a distant memory. A shadow in the past. My name is Clare Evans now.

And I am the hunted.

**A/N:** This was intended to just be a little something to give me a break from my other story, _'Where's Jane,'_ but I got carried away a bit. I might actually have to continue it now, well of course if you guys like it that is. Reviews/suggestions/comments/criticism welcome as always.


	2. Another Day

"_Oh what a tangled web we weave, when first we practice to deceive."_

_**Sir Walter Scott**_

Another day, another drink in some nameless, run down bar where nobody pays any attention to the silent customers who sit in the corners and drink away their problems. Although, actually getting drunk wasn't an option for me seeing as it took a hellish amount of concentration to manage the distinct accent that would instantly mark me as an outsider. Don't get me wrong, it was damn near impossible to completely get rid of my unique drawl, but it was easy enough to tamp it down a little.

San Francisco's all well and good. It's got some undeniably beautiful places to visit. And I'm a real fan of the Golden Gate Bridge, I have to admit. But it ain't Boston. You remember those irritating things your parents used to say? _'You don't know what you have until it's gone?'_ Well, turns out they're right. It was pretty obvious I would miss Maura and my family like hell. I just never thought I'd find myself missing things and people I didn't even care about in the past. I shit you not; I would sell my soul to the devil himself for Stanley of all people to hand me my coffee in the mornings. It could taste like crap and I'd still drink it like it was liquid fucking gold.

There are nine other people in this bar including myself. All of them are male aside from the woman behind the bar who has continuously put up with my strange requests and behavior for the past couple weeks. Some bartenders ask far too many questions for my liking. They don't mean anything by it, they feel it's their duty most of the time, but it instantly puts me on edge. Answering more than one question about myself puts me on guard. I can't risk slipping up and revealing something incriminating. There's no excuse for putting someone else in danger. If they were to discover my location, which was entirely possible, maybe even likely, then they wouldn't hesitate to gather information using the only method they understand; violence. And not just your typical, everyday violence, a few punches here and there, break a couple of fingers. Shit I used to see quite a lot on the job when someone wanted info that their victim didn't want to give freely. No, that wasn't their style. They're professionals. They wouldn't dream of lowering their high standards.

I could tell you the tiny details I noted as each one of my fellow drinkers walked into the bar. Tiny details that just might save my life if any one of them turned out to be looking for me. As it stood, it was clear none of these men were here for any other reason aside from escaping their lives for a couple of hours and disappearing into their half filled glasses. Take the large fellow in the corner. For the past hour, he hasn't stopped twisting his wedding ring back and forth, off and on, and every time he takes it off, he stares at it dejectedly. Maura would chastise me for guessing, but I'd say the poor guy just went through a divorce he either didn't want, or didn't see coming. And judging by the way he's been scrolling through pictures of two little kids on his phone I'd bet she took them with her when she left. Who knows, the guy might be an asshole, but I silently saluted someone else who had lost everything.

Mary was the barmaid's name. She was pretty, even if a little washed out looking. Her best feature was definitely her hair, which reminded me of Maura's. It hung loose and naturally wavy around her shoulders. And sometimes, when she turned her back on me, I could almost pretend she was Maura, pottering around her kitchen, preparing a meal for Bass. Mary has three kids, two boys and a girl, and a soldier for a husband. She respects his job, she loves his dedication to protecting their country, but she hates him for leaving his family behind. It practically radiates from her, the sadness and longing. Perhaps that's another reason she chose not to ask questions. She could see her own emotions reflected back at her in all their festering glory.

That night, back _'home'_ in my current crappy apartment, complete with all the amenities a woman could ever desire, I allowed myself some time to think about what might be happening back in Boston. Surely by now Maura's moved on and got someone new in her life? Part of me hopes she has, really really hopes, because if I can't be there to protect her and make her happy, then someone else has to fill the position I left wide open behind me. I wonder if she remained on good terms with my family, maintained her position as _'Auntie Maura'_ to little TJ. For some reason, I just know she has. Maura wouldn't be Maura without her admirable ability to look beyond my failings. I wonder if she still catches herself ordering a half mushroom, half pepperoni pizza and hates herself for it.

I wonder how Tommy and Lydia are coping with TJ. He'll be turning four soon. God, that's completely crazy. I remember the day the building collapsed on top of them when he was just a baby like it was yesterday. I can still taste the cloying dust which permeated the very air around us. I hope Tommy's got himself a steady job to support his family. I pray that he's being a good Father to that little boy. For some reason, although I know he hasn't been the most reliable, or the most sensible in the past, I believe with all my heart he's changed for TJ.

I find myself worrying about everyone, even though I know it's pointless. I worry about my Mother. Hopefully she and Maura still have their bond as honorary Mother and daughter. They probably banded together and formed a _'We Hate Jane'_ club, complete with badges and jackets. Not that I would blame them for doing such a thing. I deserved to have a club dedicated to hating me. In fact, that was the very least I deserved for doing what I did to the person I love most.

I worry about Frankie. I know he always looked up to me. As kids he would always tag along, trying to prove himself, be my friend. And as adults, he even followed me into the dangerous profession I chose over a normal life. Now, he's been left to deal with the fact I turned out to be the biggest bitch known to mankind, and a coward to boot. Maybe he's made Detective by now. I'd like to think he's working alongside Korsak and Frost, and even Crowe. I'd like to think that even though I had to sully the Rizzoli name, he's doing what he can to make it shine again.

I worry about Korsak. Even when I was at my lowest point, he always believed in me, consistently defended me. He's been a constant presence and influence in my life for so many years, and it breaks my heart to reflect on how disappointed he must be in me. I hate to think about how I made him feel by walking out on him without a goodbye. Frost and I deliberated over whether or not to tell him for a long time. Throughout the entire process, we considered letting him on it. But we had to make the decision to keep him in the dark. The less he knew, the safer he was.

Thinking about Frost makes me inexplicably, unavoidably, disgustingly depressed. Perhaps even more so than thinking about Maura, simply because I didn't permit my thoughts to remain fixed on her for very long. It was safer to focus on Frost. It must be slowly destroying him, having to pretend to know nothing, having to pretend to hate me like everyone else, whilst constantly being alert, just in case. The day before I left, I clearly and plainly wrote down a number on a slip of paper which I told him to treat like his own child. It was the number he was to use to reach me if and only if (I hammered that point home to him) someone was to directly threaten my family. Or if there was a chance we could expose him without putting ourselves at risk. If they grew tired of hunting me, I was aware of the fact they might try and draw me back home, where they would be waiting.

I'm in this position because I started investigating. I was doing my goddamn job. It started with little things, _'Blink and you'll miss it'_ kind of things. Chain of evidence would be broken somewhere along the line and it would become inadmissible in court, giving one side an unfair advantage. Evidence would disappear from lockers and never turn up again. Deaths went unreported in the media; mostly the homeless and other less desirable members of society had their voices silenced. Frost and I suspected someone, or a group of someone's, were doing their best to influence the outcome of our cases. We were convinced that those people were paying others to keep quiet about certain events, or to commit a felony in order to change the outcome of trials. We started to question the motives of our fellow officers. At crime scenes, we remained constantly vigilant, ensuring no evidence was tampered with. Information was grossly inaccurate in every news story. We had a string of violent deaths that went completely unnoticed by the public because nobody, and I mean nobody, was talking about it.

We kept our interest quiet. We told no-one. If we were to show too much of an interest, maybe we would find ourselves pinned for a crime we didn't commit, or suddenly assigned to other, less high profile cases.

Frost and I decided to dig deeper.

Big fucking mistake.

Mr. Theodore Newman, who held an upstanding position in The Boston City Council, needed to prove that the crime rate was falling. His main initiative and promise to the public was to clean up Boston. On the surface, he appeared to be everything he claimed. He was handsome, charming, and likeable. He came from a blue collar background which made him relatable, and most importantly, he seemed dedicated to making a difference.

The Council needed a representative like him, one who could appreciate the general public interest, one who could accurately transfer their opinions to the wider council and incite_ action_, incite _progression_. Beneath this façade, Newman was nothing more than a thug and a bully. Frost and I delved far back into his past and we found some pretty incriminating stuff. We found a sealed criminal record from his childhood and, looking back, that was probably the point where things started to snowball. We were getting too close for comfort, we were asking too many questions, and because I was a little better known than Frost, I took most of the heat.

Again, it started with little things. Informants ceased all contact with me, my name disappeared from the news, cases I slaved over and reports I spent days putting together were tampered with and practically discarded before they made it anywhere near court. It seemed they wanted to erase my influence and decrease my credibility. Well, I had to hand it to the bastard, he succeeded. The threats started to escalate because I refused to let it go. How could I walk away from this? The biggest cover up I've ever been witness to and I was expected to let it go? Close my eyes and pretend it wasn't happening? Hell no.

I began to notice I was being followed wherever I went, to work, to the grocery store, home… Everywhere. There were hired men playing dress up, acting like _'normal'_ people, everywhere I went. When one morning I went outside and found a neat little bundle of pictures of Maura sitting there idly on the porch, I lost it. I stormed back inside, pulled on my work clothes and my badge and gun, and drove like a woman possessed to his council office. I badged my way through reception, ignored anyone who tried to hold me back, and practically kicked down the door. Our conversation lasted around a minute before security dragged me out and my deranged, outraged face was slapped on every newspaper the very next morning. It was time enough for him to tell me, _'I warned you Detective. You have to be willing to accept changes. To move with new developments.' _

And then someone tried to shoot me. In broad fucking daylight at a crime scene. Korsak took him out before he could get another shot in, and so I never did get to question the little prick. But I did recognize him. He was basically a gun for hire, though evidently not a very good one at that, and not a week before he escaped a jail sentence because some evidence went missing. It was a message to me, a message to Frost, we had to stop digging.

But we didn't. It only encouraged us.

To be honest I'm not sure how I managed to keep most of this from Maura. Sure, she knew we were investigating something, but because I wasn't even sure what we were doing, she chose not to push me. That probably saved her life, because Newman soon turned his attention to her, and my family. When they started play games, sending pictures of TJ with tiny black crosses over his eyes and one of Maura with a red target on her chest, I knew things were getting out of hand. Frankie had his apartment broken into and trashed, one day TJ went missing from kindergarten only to be found a couple of hours later in the park holding an ice cream and telling his Daddy how a friend of _'Auntie Janie' _told him it was okay to come with her.

They were circling me, drawing closer and closer. It became a constant onslaught, and that's when Frost and I decided I had to leave. For the sake of everyone I loved, I had to leave. I only hoped my departure was convincing enough, because if Newman and his associates thought for second anyone else was in on it, they would not hesitate to use any force necessary to extract information.

We were close to exposing him. That's the only reason I can come up with to explain his desire to get rid of me. And I failed. I left with my fucking tail between my legs. I left my city at his mercy. But it was the right thing to do.

* * *

**A/N: **So I decided to keep going with this, I tried to make it as believable as possible, I hope I succeeded. Let me know what you think!


	3. The Day After

"_The family is a haven in a heartless world."_

**Christopher Lasch**

The day after the end of her world as she knew it, Maura decided that she couldn't live with the memories and the pain mocking her every time she stepped inside her bedroom. A place that was once her sanctuary had become the central focus of the nightmare she had found herself immersed in so completely. The bed sat there, large and daunting, the place where she and Jane had shared pleasure and pain, laughter and tears, tender caresses and arguments that would make your toes curl. Maura found she could hardly look at it. After spending her first night alone lying awake in the guest bedroom, she decided it had to go. It simply had to go. She had to get rid of the mattress, the frame... Everything. She could curse Jane until she was blue in the face, curse her name and curse the memories, but instead, she decided she was going to curse the bed.

And so that afternoon, she stood with a glass of red wine and surveyed the task at hand. She knew her limits; she was not a stupid woman. There was no plausible way for her to remove the bed without help. A glass of wine later and Frankie arrived to assist the dismantling and removal of the offending object. He didn't ask any questions, and Maura didn't supply any answers, and that suited both of them just fine. They worked in silence, stripping the bed quickly, tearing off the sheets like a band aid. The frame, although expensive and made of the finest wood Maura could source at that time, came next. They took it apart, and Maura even tossed some of it in her fireplace, taking a sick sort of satisfaction from watching it burn.

She was literally destroying the very foundations of their relationship. The place of intimacy, the symbol of their love, the scene of romance and a shared passion.

Maura wanted it gone. She wanted it utterly destroyed in such a way it could never be recovered.

She offered to pay Frankie for his troubles, but he assured her it was no trouble at all, and that she could buy him a beer next time they were at the Robber. Maura agreed to this, but privately thought _'good luck with that,'_ because she had no intention of setting foot in the Dirty Robber for a long time. That too, was a place that held too many memories, but unlike her bed, she couldn't tear it to pieces and burn it.

At first, she thought that her decision helped. The grim satisfaction she sought in watching as her bed reappeared, a different size and shape, lined with an expensive mattress and cotton sheets, stoked the rage inside of her chest into a frenzy. She liked having this new symbol. Maura even brought a suitor home that first weekend to try it out.

What she hadn't anticipated was immediately breaking down in tears when she rolled over on the sheets and discovered they no longer held the musky, lavender tinged natural scent of Jane within its threads.

The confused, dissatisfied man hurried out soon after.

And she hadn't allowed anyone other than her own self inside that room since.

Even now, sitting on the very edge of the bed, slipping on a new pair of red heels bought in a the desperate haze of a self pitying spending spree, Maura still could not seem to hone the ability to entirely eradicate the presence of one Jane Rizzoli in this room. Her home, which, though she was loathe to admit it, had slowly regressed back into simply being a house since Jane left, contained tiny little reminders of the woman who walked out on her eleven months ago.

She kept finding things. Small things. A jar of peanut butter stashed at the back of her cupboard. A stray bottle of beer in the cold depths of her fridge. A white tank top resting neatly atop a pile of her clothes.

Doctor Maura Isles was no longer able to confidently vouch for her sanity. She felt as though she was losing her mind a little more each day. With every passing second a tiny bit more of her crumbled away, eroding silently, like the side of a cliff as it slowly succumbed to the endless waves of the sea at its feet.

And everything was so quiet. Unearthly quiet. She felt as if she were living in limbo. Like she had passed on into a spectral state without realizing and was now waiting for judgment day. Here in limbo, in the midst of the oppressive silence that surrounded her both at work and at home, there was no refuge.

Jane was her refuge. Jane helped her heal the crippling self-doubt, the social incompetence. She was patient and kind and listened to her. Jane had always listened to her. Jane always knew how to make her laugh, how to make her feel safe, and ultimately, how to make her feel wanted.

Except now, she just felt used. She felt used and unclean and dirty. Maura Isles had learned early on in her life that it was better to rely only on oneself. When placing your trust in someone else, you are opening yourself up to pain. Nobody had ever really wanted her, until Jane. Nobody had ever remained constant in her life, until Jane. Between the boyfriends and rare girlfriends, nobody stayed for long. Even Ian, who she fell for and fell for hard, clearly did not love her enough to choose her.

To choose her like she believed Jane had done.

Her Mother and Father were far too wrapped up in their own extravagant lives to notice how lost she was. Her birth parents turned out to be two of the most conflicted, disturbed human beings to grace this planet. Her biological Father, though he may love her on some basic, untouchable level, was no more of a real parent to her than her adoptive family. And Hope decided that rather than get to know the daughter she thought she lost so tragically, she would simply take what she needed to save the daughter she raised. Namely, Maura's kidney.

And that was fine. She had the operation and donated anonymously. Jane was there, right by her side when she finally dragged herself back to the surface of consciousness. She handed over yet another piece of herself to greedy, waiting hands and she didn't mind. She wanted to help.

Her _'family,'_ as hard as they may have tried at differing stages in her life, had never provided her with the sense of safety, love and security that Jane seemed to exude naturally whenever they were together. Her family had never been her haven. Books and knowledge once provided that illusion of self-dependency, of playing the role of protector in this unforgiving world.

Then it was Jane. For so long it was Jane.

Now, look at right now, very now. Where was she? Alone once again. Alone and isolated. Just like she has always been, and will always be.

* * *

"Doctor Isles?" _Dang it Susie, get it together. This is your Boss, not your goddamn principal._ "Doctor Isles?" Susie Chang said, a little louder this time, glancing around the empty morgue, noting the body lying on the autopsy table, his modesty covered only by a thin white sheet. Susie suppressed a shudder. She did not like when the morgue was this empty. She did not like it when she couldn't find Doctor Maura Isles immediately. In the past, her absence meant trouble. It meant all sorts of things. Like arguments and resignations and kidnapping.

There was never a dull moment in this joint, that's for sure.

Well, that wasn't so very true anymore. Ever since Detective Rizzoli just up and left things had gotten very quiet. Forgive the pun, but _deathly _quiet was a term that applied here in the morgue. The thing was, Susie actually liked her boss. She liked her, despite her tendency to launch into long, terribly detailed explanations on things Susie just couldn't bring herself to feign any interest in, and to completely remain oblivious to even the most glaringly obvious social cues. Susie found the Doctor endearing, charming in her own way, intelligent far beyond comprehension, and she was by no means stupid. But there was another thing Chang had come to realize over her years working here; The Doctor needed her Detective, and she was pretty damned sure that the Detective needed her Doctor just as much. They balance one another out. They bring out the best, and sometimes the worst in each other.

And it saddened her to see Doctor Maura Isles regressing. When they were first introduced all those years ago before Chang was promoted to Assistant Medical Examiner, she found the Doctor to be… Challenging, to say the least. She was odd. Harmless, kind hearted, but odd. And more than a little lost. The brashness of Rizzoli and her well meaning, endless banter brought the Doc out of her shell bit by bit until she was hardly recognizable. Bright as a ball of sunshine and going about her daily business with a spring in her step all because Jane loved her.

And then the Detective left her. Disappeared into thin fucking air. And everything had gone to shit.

Maura was even more difficult to get along with now. At least, in the past, she opted to see the best in people, even when there was none readily available to the naked eye. Now, she was all darkness. Susie had tried, on a number of occasions, to draw the Doctor's infectious happiness back out of her. And she failed. Miserably. She invited her to the Robber, she asked her out for lunch, she brought her coffees and sandwiches and many an invitation to the retreats she attended with her boyfriend and all were knocked back. Politely of course, but declined nevertheless.

Susie had even attempted to contact Detective Rizzoli. To be honest, she had been ready to have it out with the older woman when she finally found her. But it didn't take her long to surmise that the Detective did not want to be found. Susie kept trying, kept asking around, kept her ear to the ground just in case Rizzoli should resurface in another state. She had a lot of friends and acquaintances in many different departments. Sometimes it came in useful to be the lowly lab tech. The hundred phone calls placed to other assistants like her meant getting to know people, getting to know systems. Susie used this to her advantage. But now, almost a year had passed and she was no closer to finding her old colleague.

Except, Susie Chang was no fool, and she did not appreciate Detective Barry Frost treating her as such. He came by the tiny office she had now, considering she was moving up in the realm of death so to speak. Promoted to _Princess of the Dead_ no less. He just appeared one day, looking far older and more jaded than she had ever seen him. And he gave her a strange request. One that had been playing on her mind ever since. He asked her to ensure only she and Doctor Isles managed the bulk of the matters pertaining to Chain of Custody. Now, that was her responsibility mostly anyway. She had to oversee a great deal of evidence fluctuating in and out of the morgue. A great myriad of substances passed through their hands on a daily basis. For Frost to feel it necessary to ask her to be extra vigilant over such matters was strange.

It was so strange that Susie Chang, Assistant ME, decided it would be her responsibility to discover why. She was sure it had something to do with Rizzoli's sudden decision that Doctor Isles was no longer the love of her life and to leave her entire family behind. Frost's complete and utter lack of contribution to the slanging matches that went on in Rizzoli's absence bothered her.

It bothered her because she thought that maybe, Frost wasn't letting on about some information he had.

And now, four months on from that day Detective Frost made that strange request, four months of doing her own rather more limited attempts at investigating her suspicions, Chang had had enough.

"_Doctor Isles!?" _Her tone was insistent now. The Doctor asking her to simply slip the files under the door, or return at a more suitable time would not put her off. No, today, she was going to speak to the Doctor, and air her suspicions. Today, it was time for them to question Detective Frost about his peculiar manner since his partner departed in the midst of thinly veiled accusations of corruption.

However, before she reached the office, Detective Frankie Rizzoli rushed into the morgue and caught her arm, pulling her back with him towards the doors. She barely protested. She went along with him. Susie was rather more used to his outbursts since Jane left. And since Jane left, she found herself gravitating towards the younger Rizzoli. He needed a friend, and she had been around.

"Susie…" He said in a low voice, glancing surreptitiously over his shoulder at the door to Doctor Isles' office. She tipped her head to one side invitingly, waiting for him to elaborate on the reasons for his clammy palms, sweaty brow and wild eyes with a patience she had only recently developed.

"I need your help," he breathed, "Frost and I… We need your help right now."

* * *

**A/N:** Sorry sorry sorry for the great lapse of time between updates for this story. I have a better idea of where I want it to go now, so hopefully I'll do better. Please, let me know what you think if you feel so inclined. I'm always opened to suggestions and thoughts!


	4. Night Falls

_"With foxes, we must play the fox."_

**Thomas Fuller**

Frost was feeling the strain of a morning with only one cup of coffee to ease his restless pacing, endless tapping away on the computer and barking out orders at his subordinates. He knew that word had gotten round that Detective Frost was no longer the laid back, easy going man he used to be. People talked in every work place, it was just a part of life. But it was somehow much worse in the police force. He had taken his fair share of bigger, bolder, brawnier Officers than himself talking shit to him and about him during his time at the academy and when he was a beat Officer and even now. That wasn't an issue for Frost; he had always been good at handling himself.

Reading situations and the people in them was a talent he discovered as a child, developed as a teenager and honed throughout his years on the force. When the moment called for it, he could quickly go from demure and gentile to threatening and imposing in the blink of an eye. Frost could still fondly remember the startled, but also impressed look in Jane's eye when some kid had given her lip and he was there with a smart _"Step off punk ass bitch!" _Perhaps the addition of 'bitch' had been a bit much, but hey, it worked.

However, Frost had been feeling the strain of a lot more than just caffeine deprivation for a long time. Almost a year and a half to be exact. It only intensified when Detective Rizzoli left. It had been the right decision at the time. Everyone's safety was of paramount importance to both of them, but god did he miss her. And although he continued investigating, there was only so much one man could do amongst something as huge as this.

He reached breaking point a little over two months ago and ended up spilling his guts to his newly assigned partner, none other then baby Rizzoli himself. Frankie, understandably, had been pissed as hell. But there was sheer and utter relief mixed in with the betrayal and the rage. His sister was still the women he knew. Although she left, it wasn't because she was dirty, and it wasn't because she suddenly decided she no longer cared enough about Maura or her family to stay. She left because she wanted to keep them safe. The younger Rizzoli didn't have to hate her anymore. And although he threatened them both with jail and beatings and death and all sorts of things, he couldn't be truly angry. Not anymore. He burned out all his anger at Jane. Now, he only had a fire in his gut for the bastard responsible for breaking up his family.

The two of them were focusing on working flat out to find a way to bring Jane home. Frost, before he broke down and told Frankie all about what he and Jane had uncovered, was close to giving up. Listening to people talking about his old partner like she was nothing more than shit on their shoe was torture. He looked up to Jane, respected the hell out of her, turned to her for guidance and trusted her absolutely. It had been an honour to realise, after a while, that she trusted him too.

The investigation hit a brick wall like a goddamn truck running at ninety. All broken bits and pieces and fragments that added up to a whole lot of nothing. Frost had _nothing_ to go on.

But then he got lucky. Now he had a lead. A pretty damn good one at that. Now he had a lead and he had Frankie to talk to, and hopefully, when the kid finally got his ass back up here with their recently appointed Assistant Medical Examiner, he'd have someone else on side.

Right on cue the door burst open and in barreled a red faced Frankie and Susie Chang, who was wearing that impeccable look of supreme disinterest she had perfected, and that they had come to realise hid the inner workings of her sharp mind very well.

"Sorry I took so long Frost," Frankie gasped, wiping his hand over a sweaty brow and looking bashfully at the ground. Even though he was now a Detective and officially of the same rank as his colleague, he regarded both Frost and Korsak as superiors. And he probably always would.

Frost immediately ceased pacing and came around the desk, offering Susie his hand which she shook; eyeing him coolly over the rim of her stylish black glasses that did a good job of emphasizing her strong, attractive features. "Thank you for coming up here, Doctor Chang," Frost said quietly, not used to seeing this woman on a floor that wasn't a brilliant white with bodies all lined up on it.

Chang nodded slowly, drinking in the Detective's slightly haggard appearance, noting the stubble on his chin and the creased shirt. "It's no trouble at all Detective Frost. However, I would like to know exactly why my presence was so urgently required." Frankie cocked his head at his partner, waiting for him to take the lead. He was itching to tell Susie everything. He had been desperate to tell her since the moment he himself discovered what was truly going on. It was dangerous to involve her, he knew that. But she had been so kind to him over the last year, and he felt she deserved to know. Frankie also felt confident that Doctor Chang would take this in her stride. He wished people gave her more of a chance. She was an interesting woman to say the least. Susie reminded him of Maura due to the fact people tended to dismiss her too easily. She let them do so, and it bothered the young Detective.

Frost blinked, smoothing his hands over the front of the rumpled shirt he adorned that morning in a rush, desperate to get to work and share the knowledge he possessed. Now that he had the opportunity to do so, he found himself at a loss.

What if he was making a mistake?

Frankie prodded his arm insistently, bringing him back to the present and Frost shot him a grateful look before meeting the impartial gaze of the young Doctor. "Ma'am, what we're about to tell you could potentially put you in harm's way." He shot a quick glance at Frankie for courage, "We've uncovered a trail of corruption that leads to men in powerful positions, and I want you to know that if we bring you into this, you could be in danger. Before you make your decision as to whether or not you wish to be party to this investigation, please consider your safety first and foremost…" Detective Frost was effectively silenced by the hand Susie raised before he managed to finish his speech. The Doctor turned away from the Detectives, who shared a confused glance, and watched as she dragged a chair over to Frost's desk. She sat down, crossed one leg over the other and looked pointedly at the two men, who in their haste to get seated, smacked into one another as they fought over the remaining chair behind Frost's desk. Frankie resigned himself to grabbing Korsak's.

Doctor Chang expertly lifted her glasses from her nose and began polishing them with the hem of her shirt, an expression of relaxed concentration etched on her pretty face. "Please continue Detective Frost. I have my suspicions as to what this is all about, and rest assured that regardless of the fact this may put my safety at risk, I intend to do what I can to help."

Frost took a deep breath and shared one last look of encouragement from his partner before launching into a detailed explanation of exactly what has been happening all around them under the instruction of Theodore Newman, Boston City Council Member.

Doctor Chang sat quietly, twirling her glasses between nimble fingers, her gaze flicking from one Detective to the other as they filled her in.

Frost paused when he reached the new development that had arisen only days ago.

This was it, make or break.

"Detective Rizzoli and I caught Officer Cox tampering with some evidence down in lock up two days ago," Frankie muttered something along the lines of '_rat bastard'_ under his breath which Susie found she had to agree with, "We threatened to hand him over to Lieutenant Cavanaugh and promised him that we would make sure every cop knew he was dirty, and that he would do time for it… Unless…" Frost licked his lips and laced fidgety fingers together by his seldom idle keyboard. "Unless he gave us the names of anyone else involved in what he was up to. We made a deal with him. If he gave us the names, and resigned, we would let him go…" Frankie sat forward in his chair, eyes gleaming; Frost gave him a warning look, and added, "He only had one name to give."

Susie slipped her now thoroughly cleansed spectacles back onto the bridge of her nose and stared at Detective Frost, slotting the information together in her mind before saying, "It's someone down in the morgue isn't it? A technician or an assistant." Frankie shot his partner a look that read _'I told you so' _now that he knew his assumptions about Chang had been proven correct.

The woman was no fool. And didn't suffer fools gladly, judging by the ice stacking up behind her eyes.

Frost nodded twice in rapid succession, watching the Doctor's reactions carefully. "Name please," Chang stated quietly, leaving no room for discussion on the matter.

"Andrew Taylor." Doctor Chang's eyebrows shot up near her hairline in an almost comical fashion as she sat back in the chair, folding her arms as she mulled that over for a second before giving a low whistle. "I never liked the guy, but I didn't think he had it in him to do something like this."

"He's been getting his hands dirty since way before Janie left…" At Frost's look of cold fury leveled at him from across the desk, Frankie instantly clammed up.

Susie just rolled her eyes at the more experienced Detective and said, "I'm sorry Detective, but as I did have my suspicions beforehand, I now believe I've been proven correct. Detective Rizzoli left as a result of this investigation, didn't she? She didn't leave because she no longer cared for Doctor Isles; she left because she got too close to the truth about Newman."

Detective Barry Frost knew when the game was up. He rocked back in his chair and nodded, glaring dejectedly at the wall whilst his emotions welled up in the back of his throat. Susie watched him closely, knowing the look of a man who had been fighting a lonely battle for too long. She had seen the same look on Doctor Isles' face for the past year. Frankly, she was sick of the sight of it and the implications it held.

"I'd be happy to aid your investigation Detective. I do not take kindly to the thought of one of my colleagues interfering with the work we do, and I most certainly do not condone any kind of corruption occurring in our departments. What would you like me to do?"

Slightly taken aback by Doctor Chang's willingness, and her calm, efficient attitude, Frost floundered for a moment before saying, "Just watch what he does, when he does it and who he reports to. Don't act suspicious, or even overtly interested… Just monitor him. Try and rattle him. If you can hinder him in any way without drawing attention to yourself, we might push him into making a mistake. Or if we're really lucky…" Frost allowed himself a smile, "Whoever he takes orders from might feel the need to intervene in some way."

Susie Chang bit the inside of her lip, thinking over this new information and the daunting task ahead. Surprisingly, she didn't find herself distressed by the thought of becoming embroiled in this scheme. Instead, there was a fire starting way down deep inside of her. Frost had succeeded in stoking the embers of a fire that had long since gone out, and now, she felt ready to act.

She fucking _knew _something had been going on.

"That will not be a problem Detective. I can be very discreet when I have to be. However," Frankie popped his head up, feeling uneasy at the prospect of Susie making conditions. Conditions meant trouble. "Doctor Isles needs to know."

The two Detectives vocally expressed the same sentiment which went something like, _'No fucking way!' _and _'Jane would pop a cap in both our asses if we put Maura in danger.'_

"Doctor Chang," Frost began delicately once he recovered enough of his composure, "With all due respect, the whole reason Jane left was to keep Doctor Isles safe. Newman's men were threatening her _directly._ They sent Jane pictures of her with targets painted on her chest and a bunch of ones just of her going about her business… This lead is barely tangible as it is. It could lead nowhere. I told you this was dangerous Doctor, and we're grateful you're willing to help, so grateful, but if we inform Doctor Isles of this everything Jane did, everything she gave up, will have been for nothing…" Doctor Chang thought for a moment and then said, "Well bring Rizzoli back then!"

Frost shook his head emphatically, cutting her off, "Can't do that." He uttered gruffly, "Not until we're sure we can expose him without putting anyone in direct danger. She specifically told me not to ask her to come back unless we had absolute proof of what he's been doing. Witnesses willing to testify, bank records showing unusual activity, footage of him talking to someone involved in this whole fucked up mess… Things we don't have. Not yet anyway."

Susie edged forwards, pulling herself up to her full height within the confines of the chair. And then, without further preamble, she began, never breaking eye contact with her colleagues, "You know, bringing Rizzoli back might be risky, hell it could get us all killed," She gave a gentle grunt of mirthless laughter, "But I'm telling you right now that Doctor Isles isn't going to last much longer without her. Now, whether that means she packs up all her Gucci and Prada and jumps on a plane, or does something really stupid I can't tell you," Chang punctuated this with a shrug, "But she's so lost guys; she's just an empty shell. And when Rizzoli does come back she's going to kick seven shades of shit outta her, but at the same time she's going to be _Maura Isles_ again, Chief Medical Examiner of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts.

"At the end of the day, it's your call, but Rizzoli needs to come home eventually, why not now? While there's still time to fix this god awful mess?"

Frankie fidgeted uncomfortably, glancing at his partner, trying to gauge his reaction to that powerful tirade. Never had he seen the Doctor so animated and determined. Frost eventually caught his eye and Frankie said, his tone soft, "Maybe she's got a point Barry. Bringing Janie back's going to be risky whenever we do it… If we do it now, at least we'll have her here to help, and you've seen the state Maura's in without her…"

Frost leapt from his chair and took up his frantic pacing again, raking a hand roughly over his face and growling in frustration, "We could get her fucking killed Frankie! If we bring her back here, and someone finds out and tracks her down…" He whirled around, "Where the hell would she even stay?"

Doctor Susie Chang extended an elegant finger and drew their attention back to her, "Rizzoli can stay with me for the time being, until it's safe for her to be in the spot light."

The two Detectives stared at her, dumbfounded. Frankie released a high pitched giggle of disbelief laced with incredulity and looked between the very serious face of Doctor Chang, and the shocked one of his partner. "You gotta be kidding me, right?" He asked. Receiving no answer, his expression settled into one of horror, "My god you're being serious!" He squawked.

"No way in hell." Frost stated simply, "What you're doing is already too dangerous, there is no way we can have Rizzoli staying with you into the bargain. You know what'd happen if they found out? They'd kill you both. Make it look like an accident. You've seen the bodies down there Doctor, there's just no way in hell…"

Chang looked at them levelly, drawing patterns on her knee with light fingertips. She then looked up, eyes glistening with an entirely alien kind of determination and purpose inside them.

In that moment, she was more like Jane Rizzoli than either man could comprehend.

"Listen guys, I think over the last year you should both have come to realise that whilst I'm just an Assistant Medical Examiner, I'm not stupid, nor am I a fantasist. I am well aware of the risks…" Susie paused, sucked in a shallow breath that made her chest burn just a little, "But they are _worth_ it." She finally hissed out. "They're worth it to get my boss back. They're worth it to dispose of these filthy rats in our departments. We deserve to do our jobs without the threat of persecution hanging over us. Without the threat of being watched and measured for our goddamn coffins. I deserve to have a boss that doesn't look at her scalpels like they're a tempting piece of chocolate cake, and you deserve to have your partner and your sister back where she belongs."

Frost looked down at his shoes as though they had suddenly become very interesting to him. Frankie drew a hand back through his dark hair and knew immediately that he was sold to this idea.

"They have themselves on a pedestal, they think they're untouchable." Susie flicked an imaginary piece of lint from her impeccable skirt and then glared up at her colleagues, "They have underestimated us, and we can work that to our advantage. We can think like them, and we can also think above their level. They share a belief that they are the foxes, and we are the hapless chickens." Chang raised an immaculate eyebrow before stating quietly, "So when dealing with foxes, we must play the fox."

As she stood, gracefully as always, she said clearly, "Don't take too long Detectives. I am going to require enough time to clear out my spare room before Detective Jane Rizzoli makes an appearance." She glanced from one man to the other, slightly amused and slightly touched by the identical expressions of slack jawed disbelief they were wearing. "Let's make this happen," She said before taking her leave.

* * *

**A/N: **I'm excited to hear what you all think of Doctor Susie Chang in this chapter. Having someone else who shares Maura's love of evidence and logic, along with some fire of her own amongst the others has always intrigued me. Susie was the right gal for the job in my opinion. Anyways, hope you enjoyed! Suggestions/reviews always welcomed and much appreciated. Cheers to everyone who followed/favorited/reviewed already, means a lot to me.


	5. Promises, Promises

_"Security is mostly a superstition. It does not exist in nature, nor do the children of men as a whole experience it."_

**Helen Keller**

_Two Minutes and thirty one seconds. Two minutes and thirty two seconds. Two minutes and thirty three seconds..._

I made the mistake of only brushing my teeth for _'a completely unsatisfactory time of one hundred and twenty one seconds' _at Maura's one morning and she never let me hear the end of it. After endless lectures and detailed descriptions of what neglecting to take care of my teeth would do to them, I made a show of ensuring I always brushed for at least three minutes, morning and night. Maura would often take a shower after me when we were getting ready for work and she would absently count aloud whilst I brushed thoroughly, smiling through the foam as the sound of her still sleepy voice drifted out whilst I stood barefoot and half dressed on the tiles.

Other mornings weren't so innocent as those happened to be. I might miss the intimacy we shared at an almost unbearable level, but somehow, those little moments are a lot more difficult to think about. Just sharing a completely normal, uneventful morning together, where I brush my teeth diligently and she counts to make sure I don't skip out on dental care, and then we finish getting ready and grab a quick breakfast before heading into work for another day.

Yeah, I missed those things even more.

My internal counting was cut short by a sound that I had managed to convince myself I would never hear. The foamy paste still filling up every crevice of my mouth landed in the sink as I hurriedly tossed the toothbrush aside and tore out of the bathroom, leaving a trail of wet footprints in my wake.

I could feel all the blood in my body rushing northwards. Adrenaline kicked in as I darted across the small living area, leaping over the rickety coffee table and last night's empty take out containers before pouncing on the drawer that I knew contained my one link to Boston.

Panting heavily, sweat mixing with the rapidly cooling water droplets still clinging to my damp skin, I thumbed the tiny buttons and pressed the phone to my ear. All of this occurred before the fourth ring.

"Frost," I snarled, unable to prevent unadulterated panic from seeping into my tone, "What's happened? Is Maura alright? Are you okay? He hasn't hurt anyone has he…?" I stopped to take a deep breath and give my palm a hard pinch. Get a fucking _grip._ The man needs a chance to respond for chrissakes.

"And hello to you too Jane," Frost said dryly.

And for a moment, I forgot I was standing in the middle of a shitty little one bedroom apartment that smells like cats and old socks. The sound of his voice seemed to swaddle me in a blanket of familiarity. My _god_ it felt so fucking good to hear his voice. To know that he was okay, that Newman hadn't gotten to him.

It suddenly sunk in how lonely I'd been. Even the sound of my old partner being a wiseass possessed the power to push me to the brink of tears.

"Everyone's fine Jane." I let out the breath I hadn't been aware I had been holding, "Everyone's fine, except… Well, there's been a development."

He was using his _'careful tone,'_ the one he exercises when we deal with victims who've had a really rough time. We used it when a woman, and sometimes a man, needed us to be gentle. Those occasions where they've been through so much that having two Detectives questioning them could just push them over the edge with the barest amount of encouragement.

Well, whatever he might think, I was no fucking victim.

"Right, spill Frost." I snapped, but I could distinctly hear the smile in my words.

The first thing he did was tell me that Frankie knew everything. He must have been anticipating my… Rather _adverse_ reaction to this, because by the time I calmed down from my frenzy, I heard him say, "Is that you quite finished?" Before he then continued as though this was nothing important. I realised I would have to let it drop for now in order to hear what else he had to say.

But he wasn't going to get off the hook that easy. Hell _no._ That's my little brother he's dragged into this. Frost might just have told me, a little too casually for my liking, that Frankie was a Detective now, but he would still always be that kid in diapers, trailing around after me like a lost puppy.

Whilst he explained what had been happening, over the last few days, including catching Cox tampering with evidence, getting Taylor's name out of him and enlisting the help of none other than the newly promoted Susie Chang in monitoring him, I realised I was unconsciously gathering my gear together.

When I caught my hands absently shoving jeans and shirts into the hold all I store under the bed, keeping the phone clenched between my ear and shoulder, I had to force myself to stop. I chose instead to pull on the clothing now that I had dried off. Probably a result of all the steam I let off whilst I lectured Frost about putting Frankie and Susie in danger.

"Basically, what I'm saying is… We think you should come home. I think you should come home Jane. We need you here. We need you here, and I know it's risky as hell…"

I coughed out a disbelieving laugh, hearing it hit the thin walls and come back to me made me lower my tone slightly, deepening it into a growl, "Risky?! Fuck that Frost, it's suicide!" I could almost see him shaking his head frantically, trying to get me to listen to him.

"Jane, you need to come back whilst... While there's still time to fix this mess. You have to come home eventually, why not now? We have a real shot here. Taylor will slip up, I know he will…. And when he does, we'll be ready." Frost sounded earnest, desperate even. I have to admit, it scared me. I'd never heard him talk that way before.

But I couldn't let my emotions rule common sense here. "Frost, I'm sorry but it sounds to me like you're all clutching at straws. Didn't I tell you to call me if, and only if, you had solid evidence, or if someone's life was in danger…"

"_**ALL OUR LIVES ARE IN DANGER!" **_

Frost's hoarse shout cut me off. My jaw slammed shut and I looked at the phone in my hand warily like it had just bitten my ear, wondering who this was and what he had done with my level headed partner.

"Whether you're here or not we are all in danger. We're even deeper into this now Jane, all of us. It's only a matter of time before he realizes we know that Cox and Taylor are involved, and when he does, he'll come after me. He'll come after me and Frankie and Susie. He'll go after Maura, whether you're here or not."

I heard him take a shallow, shuddering breath, "And our lives are in danger for another reason too Jane. I know, I know you must be lonely. Living alone, always looking over your shoulder… It must be hell. It must be, I know that…"

Everything else I can just about handle. But hearing tears clogging up my partner's voice? That was something I could never have prepared myself for.

"But think about us. Think about me, and your family, and Korsak and Maura. Think about all of us, having to listen to people talk shit about you, hearing them make snide comments. A lot of people think you were dirty Jane, and I thought I could handle it, I really did… But I can't."

I swallowed roughly, pinching the bridge of my nose tightly. _Goddamnit it Frost. _

"I thought I could handle it. But I can't. Not anymore. I need your help to fight this Jane, I can't do it alone. Even though I have Frankie and Susie… It's not the same. If we're gonna expose this, if we're gonna bring him down… It's going to take all of us to do it. Including you."

Frost paused, giving me a moment to think it over.

"Think about Maura," He rasped, instantly putting my back up, "Don't you _dare_ bring her into this Frost, that ain't fair and you know it," I commanded harshly, but he continued anyway, speaking louder to drown my protests out.

They were weak anyway. As much pain as it brought, even hearing her name filled me with longing and love and hope. Just the sound of her name made me feel like I should fight.

It made me want to go home.

"Is any of this fair, Jane? Is any of this fucking fair?" Frost asked coldly, "You have no idea how fragile she is. How broken. And I know we didn't have a choice then… But we have one now. We have a real lead here Jane, we have an opportunity to pull together and start planning, start building a case for god's sake."

I noticed I was chewing on my thumb so hard I had drawn blood and I pulled it out of my mouth, irritated, and slammed it into the front pocket of my jeans, "What the hell would I do Frost? Where would I go, how could I…"

"Susie says she wants you to stay with her."

I couldn't help the genuine laugh that burst out of my throat when his words finally registered, "Chang?! You are fucking kidding me aren't you Barold? Tell me you're kidding…" I trailed off, not hearing him joining in with my mirth. Fuck.

He really was being serious.

"You have no idea what she's done for Frankie. You have no idea who she is Jane, I don't think any of us do…" He sighed, "It would just be for a little while, until it's safe for you to come out of the shadows again. She's up to her eyes in this Jane, just as much as we are. And she wants to be." I scowled down the phone as though he could see me, "She wants to be involved. She wants to help. But most of all… She wants you to come back and save Maura from herself."

The way he said those words… It's almost as if he was suggesting Maura was close to doing something reckless. Something terrible. The thought made me shudder. She must hate me. She must hate every single thing about me. She must despise me so much that it makes her sick to even hear my name.

Well, I deserved that. I definitely deserved that.

But maybe… Maybe our relationship was salvageable if I went back to them now. If I returned to Boston right now and started working on this case from a distance… Maybe I could save the most precious thing in my life.

"I'm not sure about this Frost…" I murmured, glancing around my apartment as though expecting the windows to suddenly shatter and Newman's men to begin pouring in from all directions now there was a hint of uncertainty in my tone.

And Frost, like the talented Detective he was, seized his opportunity.

"I took the liberty of booking a seat on the next plane out of San Fran. It leaves in an hour and a half. Get your skinny white ass on it Jane Rizzoli. Don't you dare let me down. Don't you dare."

The line went dead.

I'm not sure how long I stood there, just staring out the window at the city I had been living in for so long, but did not feel even one bit like home to me. Eventually, I think I just sighed and began packing my meager belongings.

Then I stepped back into the bathroom, picked up my toothbrush and met my own eyes in the mirror.

_Two minutes and thirty four seconds…_


	6. At Your Service

_"Every normal man must be tempted at times to spit on his hands, hoist the black flag, and begin to slit throats."_

**H.L. Mencken**

Francesco Rizzoli felt like he was sixteen and on his first date all over again. Actually, that was not the right analogy; this was his sister he was talking about after all. But still, the nerves, the anticipation, tinged with apprehension and fear... Yeah, he had all of that going on inside of him right now. He was half convinced every second person that even glanced in his direction was one of Newman's men, waiting for the moment Jane's plane touched down and she walked out of the door facing him so they could grab her.

Well, they would have to get through him first, but still.

Shifting from foot to foot, Frankie checked his watch for the fifth time in all of three minutes. Her plane had landed a while ago, and if she was on it, she would be making her way outside right around now. He glanced behind him, looking inside the car, making sure everything was in order.

When Jane left, he had been so consumed with rage and betrayal that he didn't want anything to do with the stuff she left behind. But soon, when it became clear that Maura couldn't handle it, he started removing her possessions. Some of it, he kept, unable to throw it away. Most of it, he just put into storage. He could barely stand to look at the reminders of the woman he had admired all his life, the woman who left them behind like they meant nothing.

But now, he had gathered up some of Janie's things and had them waiting inside the car for her to take with her to Susie's.

If she showed up that is.

When he met up with Frost in a crowded café so they could blend in with the civilians, his partner recounted his conversation with Jane in detail. Frankie was hopeful. For the first time in nearly a year he felt a little bubble of hope in his chest, and he would be damned if he didn't make it grow. He didn't want it to pop with Jane's no show. He wanted her to come swaggering out of the exit and he wanted to see her smile, hear her voice and give her a hug.

That wasn't much to ask really, in the grand scheme of things. To see your sister, to be able to go round and talk to her whenever you wanted without fearing for your life and your livelihood? No, that was basic human right. Something Newman and his gang had snatched away from them all.

Well, whether Jane came back or not, Newman was going down. Frankie may only have recently made Detective, but he was good. He was thorough, determined, likeable. People liked him. People responded to him, trusted him; let him in, exposing both their weaknesses and their darkest secrets.

Jane had missed his development as an Officer of the Law. She had missed the day Frost turned to him outside the interview room, dark stubble marring his jaw, bags weighing down his tired eyes, and said,

"_I don't know what to do Frankie. You need to help me."_

And he had. He told Frost to wait outside and he went in alone. He sat down in front of Paul Redford and his smarmy lawyer and, over the course of an hour, systematically wore him down. He picked at his story like it was a loose thread, and it unraveled soon enough.

Nobody questioned his capabilities after that confession.

Detective Frankie Rizzoli had stepped up to the mark and worked twice as hard to maintain a good, solid reputation in the wake of Jane's departure.

But right now, he was just a little brother, desperate to see his big sister.

When he glanced back up from his watch he saw her.

He recognized her immediately, despite her rather pitiful disguise, which consisted of large sunglasses and a cap pulled down low over her face. But there was her unmistakable wild mane of hair tucked away beneath it; the familiar loping gait of her long legs, the patented Rizzoli swagger remained with her, although it had lost some of its momentum.

Frankie's heart leapt in his chest. He wanted to call out to her, but he forced himself to remain silent, allowing his gaze to roam furtively over the people milling around outside the airport, chattering aimlessly or hurrying towards their vehicles. _'C'mon Janie, over here, over here!'_ He willed her to look at him with his mind, bouncing on the balls of his feet and after a moment, as though she had picked up on his frantic brain waves, she lifted her head.

She mouthed his name before she came stumbling towards him. Unable to prevent himself, Frankie closed the distance between them in two long steps and swept her into his arms.

He could feel her clinging to him, her short nails digging into his sweater clad back. That stupid hat had fallen off her head and landed on the sidewalk beside them, where it glared up accusingly. "Jane…" He murmured, feeling the words catch in his throat and come close to choking him. Her response was to tighten her hold on him and whisper, "I'm so sorry Frankie." And then again, "I'm sorry."

Frankie glanced up at the sky, willing the tears away. The afternoon sun was warm and pleasant on his face, and he could feel the tears at the corners of his eyes slowly dissipating under its heat.

He sighed, giving her one final squeeze before holding her out in front of him by the upper arms and giving her a once over. His brow furrowed as he took in the gauntness of her face, the bruised appearance of the skin under her eyes from too many nights without proper sleep and probably too much to drink, the fragility of her body under the shirt and jacket she was wearing.

He didn't like that she looked so haggard. So old. He didn't like it one bit.

Frankie succinctly summed up his evaluation in a short, matter of fact statement, "You look like shit Janie."

His sister laughed, and despite the gravelly, unused quality of it, the mere sound warmed his heart and brought fresh tears to his eyes. "Thanks little brother. Good to see you too." She countered, sniffing bravely before punching his arm lightly, eyes sparkling. "I hear congratulations are in order." She whispered, her tone conspirational as Frankie hefted the heavy hold all from over her shoulder and popped the trunk so he could sling it inside.

The smile on his face was genuine as he shot her a thankful look, "Yeah, finally huh?" He chuckled, coming around to pull her into one last fierce embrace before shoving her in the direction of the passenger side as he hurried around to the other door, glancing over his shoulder to ensure no-one in the vicinity was watching them too closely. Somewhat satisfied, he climbed inside and slammed the door before turning to his older sister and, summoning every ounce of whatever the hell he had been feeling for the last year, he barked at her, "You know, I really hate you. I love ya, but I hate you at the same time." He rubbed at his face before hoarsely saying, "You could have told me! I would have…" Frankie waved his hand in the space between them fruitlessly, ignoring the sadness in Jane's eyes, the pain nestled deep in the corners of her mouth, "I would have done something. I would have done _anything_, for you."

Jane reached out and put her hand on Frankie's arm, holding onto him, reassuring him that she was here now. And that may not be enough, but it was a start. She sighed deeply, "I'm sorry Frankie. There's nothing else I can say except I am truly sorry for causing you any pain. Just know that… I did what I did to protect you and our family." Jane paused, considering her next move cautiously, "And there's no way I can regret that decision. I might regret everything else, the pain… The sorrow, but I can't bring myself to regret trying to keep you all safe."

Frankie glanced up, smirking through the blurriness of his eyes as tears swam around inside them, "Oh Janie, always gotta play the hero don't you?" He admonished her, pulling out of the parking lot.

They were silent for a few minutes as Frankie drove them towards what Jane presumed was Susie Chang's place of residence. The thought of staying with the Doctor was kind of making her feel like a little girl who had been sent to the headmaster's office.

She got the distinct impression Chang was going to give her hell.

During the ride to Susie's place, Frankie took the opportunity to fill Jane in on what's been happening in Boston. His promotion, TJ's last birthday, Tommy getting a steady job working for a landscaping company and Angela becoming even more protective of them and Maura.

Maura's name instantly caused a shift in Jane. Frankie watched as she unconsciously began fingering the scar tissue on her hands, worrying the knot of gnarled skin until it was red and irritated.

"What if she doesn't forgive me Frankie?" Jane finally asked, her voice childlike and small. The younger Rizzoli glanced at her in the rearview mirror, wondering how much to tell her, how much of Maura's agony he was at liberty to reveal.

With a resigned sigh, Frankie said, "You're going to have to do a hell of a lot of groveling Janie. I don't… Maura's not been the same person since you left. It's kinda like…" He caught Jane flinching, and tried to avoid any inflammatory language, "It's kinda like she doesn't think she has any reason to be happy, or to even try. She's really lost Jane."

* * *

Doctor Susie Chang opened her front door dressed in dark, figure hugging jeans and a blue jumper that accentuated the toned body she tended to hide under decidedly unflattering scrubs. She regarded the two Rizzoli's coolly over the rim of her glasses, allowing her eyes to roam over the two scruffy siblings. Frankie, with one hand holding a large hold all and the other tightly clenched around Jane's arm, had the frazzled appearance one might see in a woman dragging around her children at the mall.

Jane on the other hand just looked like shit, to put it bluntly.

She then threw the door open wider, extending her arm invitingly. With a quirk of her half smile, she said, "Susie Chang, at your service," feeling slightly amused by the suspicion and confusion in Rizzoli's eyes as the Detective pressed herself into the door frame and then along the wall to avoid making any kind of contact with the young Doctor, never taking narrowed eyes away from her face.

Chang closed and locked the door to her apartment with one final glance along the landing. What could bolts and keys do against men with guns? Not a whole lot, but still, the illusion of security was better than nothing of that kind at all.

She breezed past the Rizzoli's, gesturing with her arm vaguely, "Frost's already here…" She announced, voice fading as she disappeared further into her home. Frankie and Jane shared a raised eyebrow look. Frankie's eyebrows said _'Bet you weren't expecting that'_ and Jane's said, _'What in the hell is going on here? Has everyone gone crazy since I left?'_

Susie's voice floated out to them, "Let me just grab a couple of things from the kitchen and I'll be right with you."

Frankie rolled his eyes impatiently and gave Jane an insistent push.

Susie's apartment was not what she had been expecting. She had half convinced herself it was resemble the lab in some way, with little test tubes and beakers dotted around. Instead, it was bright, homely and decorated with tasteful but expensive looking furniture that reflected the colorful nature of her personality that had recently been revealed. As she passed a completely horrendous collection of tiny carved animals in the hallway she spun her head and made eyes at Frankie, who responded by urging her more firmly into the living area.

Detective Barry Frost was seated in a plush, comfortable looking armchair, a glass of water on the table in front of him and a faraway glaze in his eyes. Jane felt her throat constrict at the sight of her old partner.

Damn, he looked so… Jaded. That was the word. Frost looked jaded.

"Hello Barold…" Jane said, hearing the emotion behind that simple address crack on his name and allow her feelings to seep through. His head snapped up and he lurched from the chair, moving across the room like he was treading through quicksand, almost as if he couldn't quite believe what he was seeing.

For the second time that day, Rizzoli found herself being pulled into a crushing embrace by one of her brothers, both of them stumbling back a step with the force of it.

"Thank god…" Frost muttered, holding onto his old partner tightly, fearing she might disappear in a puff of smoke if he let her go too soon. He leaned back, touched a hand to Jane's cheek in a tender gesture that he would most likely never repeat, and said, "Good to have you back Jane."

The sound of someone clearing their throat broke the moment. The three Officers turned and saw Susie in the doorway holding a tray of coffee, sugar, cream, sandwiches and biscuits. At the sudden attention directed her way, the Doctor walked forwards and deposited the tray on the table before dropping down onto the couch and looking at them pointedly. "Thought you might be hungry," she said, picking up a cup of coffee and dropping a sugar cube into it.

Jane couldn't help but smirk, "Good little housewife aren't we Doctor Chang?" She said, causing the two men to chuckle as they also sat down around the table.

Susie's eyebrows raced up her forehead before she said smoothly, "Don't get used to it Detective. I assure you, for the duration of your stay, you will be doing your fair share." Frankie laughed aloud at the expression on his sister's face and Susie flashed him a private smile which did not go unnoticed by the eldest Rizzoli as she popped half a sandwich into her mouth with an amused grimace.

The Doctor took this as her opening to begin filling Jane in on her observation of one Andrew Taylor. The name drips off her tongue like poison, the disgust and contempt she feels for him making itself known. "Just as you suspected Detectives, he has been getting his hands very dirty. I'd say maybe once a day at least, he tampers with something. Whether that is chain of evidence or purposefully mislaying results or labeling things incorrectly. I can tell you that when evidence is handled by Taylor, things go wrong." Susie paused to take a sip of coffee, "However, he's careful about it. He knows that it's safer to let other members of staff handle the same evidence so it cannot be traced to him directly. On more than one occasion I have checked the signatures on evidence boxes and removals and found them to be forged."

Jane crushed a sugar cube in the palm of her hand, rage filling her up. It was the only thing that really made her _fee_l anything anymore, so she cherished it when it came.

"I think it's time I intervene." Susie said delicately, gauging the reactions of her three confederates, "It's a matter of rectifying one of his intentional mistakes and waiting for him to panic. Newman is ruthless, as are his followers, and Taylor is a coward."

She shrugged as Frost nodded at her, "I can tap his phone. Then we'll know who he calls for help and when."

Frankie held up his hand, eyes widening, "Whoa, hold on there partner. We don't have a warrant for that. Even if we catch him out, it'd be inadmissible in court!"

Jane shot him a look and said patiently, "That won't matter Frankie, if we find out who's in charge of Taylor, the next man up, then who gives a fuck about him?"

The younger man still looked uncomfortable, so Susie offered him a biscuit which he accepted grudgingly, like he was sealing the deal in blood instead of a chocolate biscuit.

"Trust me Frankie," Frost said, helping himself to a biscuit as well, "It'll be alright. And if it comes down to it, I'll say you didn't know about it. Simple."

Jane stretched languidly, and Susie crinkled her nose in disgust when the sound of bones popping filled the momentary silence. '_Great, I'm going to have to live with that for the foreseeable future._' She thought wryly.

"What about Korsak? Is it time to tell him yet?" Frankie asked around a mouthful of crumbs.

"We should wait until we have a name from Taylor, and then inform him of what's been going on." Frost suggested, glancing at Jane who happened to be nodding her assent. "Better to keep him in the dark for now." Frost elaborated, taking another biscuit from an insistent Susie Chang with a grateful smile.

Yes, she was intent on feeding them all up. The stress of the past year had taken its toll on their health, and they needed to be at their peak to make this work.

"And what about Doctor Isles?" Susie said casually. She noticed Rizzoli tense, her entire body going rigid in the chair, the hand bringing the cup to her mouth stopping in mid air. "I want to let her in on this as soon as possible."

Jane shot her a level glare, "With all due respect Doctor, you don't get to make that call."

Susie set down her cup slowly and deliberately, keeping her eyes on Jane, "Be that as it may, I've been around this last year Detective. I've witnessed first hand exactly what your departure has done to my boss, and I'm not prepared to prolong her torture any longer than is completely necessary. Of course, I don't expect you to drive to her house right now and tell her everything…" Susie cocked her head, her features settling into a hard, fierce, protective look, "But soon. As soon as we have a name from Taylor and something tangible to follow."

Detective Jane Rizzoli took a deep breath before nodding sullenly, her waves of dark hair falling into her eyes, hiding the tears that had bloomed there, "Deal," she said quietly.

They were about to go into battle. If one of them is found out then they will all be in danger. Even if Newman doesn't kill them, he's powerful enough to wreck their careers and ruin them. But they had decided to fight back and reclaim what was rightfully theirs.

* * *

**A/N:** Thank you all so much for the reviews, follows and favourites. It's much appreciated and very humbling. If any of you have any suggestions, criticisms or ideas, as always, feel free to share!


	7. A Word Of Warning

_"We cross our bridges when we come to them and burn them behind us, with nothing to show for our progress except a memory of the smell of smoke, and a presumption that once our eyes watered."_

**Tom Stoppard**

Susie Chang was a Doctor. She thrived on order, precision, attention to detail and firmly believed that having a tidy workspace enforced a tidy mind. Therefore, the fact that her apartment had been, over the course of only a few days, completely turned upside down by one Jane Rizzoli, was really starting to irritate her. Not that the Detective was doing it on purpose. It wasn't big things; it wasn't like Jane left a pile of dishes in the sink or refused to pick up after herself. No, it was the way she carried this nervous energy around with her which seemed to rub off on her surroundings.

Not to mention that her dining table had been put out of commission due to the endless amounts of files, papers, newspaper clippings and pictures strewn across it, balancing precariously in uneven piles that were always just on the verge of tumbling all over the damned floor.

It was also in Jane's reactions. Every time Susie walked into the room the Detective's hand would instinctively whip to her gun. On more than one occasion the Doctor found herself glaring indignantly down the muzzle of said gun. Jane had been alone for too long and it was clear she wasn't used to the presence of another living, breathing, walking and talking human being around her.

The inherent differences between their personalities were laughably evident. Susie couldn't exactly say she _liked_ the Detective. She certainly respected and admired her, she trusted her, but perhaps the word like was pushing her distant and vague affection for the older woman a little too far. It was difficult to forget all those times Jane would brush her off in the lab, the place where _she_ was supposed to feel comfortable, the place where she had the control, where she could find the answers to the questions Jane was asking. Too often, Susie felt Jane didn't have enough time for her profession, as well as that of Doctor Isles. She knew it wasn't born out of malicious intent; it was mostly a lack of cohesive understanding. Jane felt that if someone really wanted to know what death and fear looked like, then they had to be out in the field, catching the bad guys.

Rizzoli couldn't seem to grasp the concept that Doctor Isles and she could discover things of huge importance from behind a microscope, or in analyzing a tiny fiber. The information came to her ready to utilize, ready to help her collar another perp, but Susie wasn't convinced that Jane really knew what kind of effort it took to find those little things that helped fit into the bigger picture.

And tonight, whilst Susie lounged in her deep armchair reading a thick novel, she watched Jane Rizzoli pacing back and forth like a caged animal in the kitchen. She had a beer in one hand, and the remnants of a burger in the other.

Well, that was the main food groups covered there then.

She happened to glance up and catch the Detective's eye. Jane stopped moving and cocked her head to one side at her temporary roommate. Susie rolled her eyes, muttering a soft, amused _'Urgh' _of disdain when a drip of sauce landed on Jane's shirt. She listened to the string of curse words with a smirk on her face, hearing the water gushing from the faucet as Jane frantically fought to salvage one of her treasured, endless amounts of multicolored shirts.

A moment later, she sensed a presence beside her and lifted her head to find the Detective looming over the chair. The Italian thrust out a glass of wine, head down, cheeks pink. Susie held out her hand and accepted the offering, hiding a smile, "Thank you Jane," she said quietly, motioning for the taller woman to join her. Jane dropped down into the couch with a sigh, setting her bottle on the coffee table. She felt the pointed glare being directed her way and hurriedly picked it up, placing a beer mat under it before gently putting it on top with a flourish, sending Susie a rueful grin.

When Rizzoli started fidgeting, her fingers agitatedly rubbing at the scars on her hands, Doctor Chang knew what she wanted to hear.

It could only be one thing. The main thing they had in common right now was their concern for Maura Isles.

Oh, and can't forget to mention they were embroiled in a conspiracy to expose corruption of course.

Susie closed her book with a snap and set it to one side, taking a thoughtful sip of wine as she considered her newfound companion. After a few decent meals and some much needed sleep, Jane looked a little more like her old self. The unhealthy pallor of her skin had lessened, the bags under her eyes had faded somewhat and she no longer gave the impression she was ready to run as soon as the opportunity presented itself. She was a long way from being fine, but Chang knew that Jane Rizzoli would never be _'fine'_ until she was back where she belonged, with Maura.

"I spoke to her today, if you were wondering." Jane's head snapped up, her dark eyes instantly zeroing in on the completely calm and settled pair across from her. "No real change, but to be fair, that might be a good thing. She had lunch in the café with your Mother; I suppose that's what you call progress…" Susie shrugged, unhappy that she didn't have more to report.

"What did she look like?" A gruff voice enquired. Susie raised her eyebrows, curious. "What was she wearing?" Jane elaborated, shielding the lower half of her face with one rough hand, but refusing to tear her gaze away from the Doctor.

Susie thought back to this morning when she first saw the Doctor heading into the building, and then again when she was busy doing paperwork and arranging folders in her office, picturing exactly what she looked like proved difficult. She had been preoccupied with Taylor, and had only managed a couple minutes of conversation with her mentor. "She was wearing this dark blue satin blouse, with three quarter length sleeves and a wide collar… And a black skirt, with a pair of black heels and a blazer…" With a jolt, Susie realised that she only saw that blazer when Maura walked in. It didn't make an appearance for the rest of the day. "I think it was one of your blazers Jane." The Detective let out something that sounded like a cross between _'fuck'_ and a sob. "She wore it on her way into the building, but not during the day."

Jane blew air over the rim of the bottle, moodily listening to the gentle _'oooh'_ that sounded out. "She didn't want anyone to see it." She eventually stated, taking a gulp of beer.

"God, I just miss her so much." The Detective choked out, lowering her head as she felt herself nearing tears. "I lover her Susie, I know you might not believe that seeing as I left… But I did it because I had to keep them safe. I had to keep her safe. Knowing that I was the one putting her in harm's way was killing me… And she deserves more than that, I know… I've loved her for as long as I can remember, it's almost like everything and everyone before Maura just doesn't exist anymore…" Jane shrugged with one shoulder, "I guess she just blew them all outta the water." She broke off, unable or unwilling to continue.

Susie tipped her head to one side, measuring her next statement like her life depended on it.

"I could see it between you two way before you opened your eyes and stopped being so goddamn clueless." She eventually said.

Well, nobody had ever accused Susie Chang of being overly tactful.

Jane coughed out an indignant bark, spluttering on her beer, "Hey!" she protested feebly.

Susie then said, gesturing at Jane with her now half empty glass, "Maybe it's better it took you longer to get together. You had to wait, and became stronger for it. Maybe this year apart, despite the lies and the betrayal, will also eventually bring you closer together."

Jane snorted in disbelief, "I wish," she muttered, using her finger to draw aimless patterns on the couch.

Susie shot the Detective a level, dark look. "Well it certainly won't if you have that attitude." Jane just stared at her, confused. Susie sighed, rolling her eyes heavenwards and biting down on her inner cheek to keep from verbally attacking this woman who was so very intelligent, but _oh so dim_ when it came to Maura Isles and all things emotional, "You've suffered Jane, I understand that. But you have absolutely no idea how much this affected Maura. It broke her.

_It. Broke. Her."_ Susie said, pausing after every word to hammer her point home.

"She managed to keep going, because people depend on her here. They depend on her good work and her kindness. But you left her, you broke her. Maybe you've burnt your bridges," Susie shrugged, "I dunno, that's not for me to say. But at least you didn't have to live with the knowledge that someone else left you, just like every other person who claimed to love you…"

Jane found herself wondering just how in the _hell _Susie knew all of this. Then she realised that this woman had worked with them for years. She must have picked up on a lot of things.

She must have kept a lot of secrets for them too.

"You had a year to come to terms with leaving her behind; leaving your family and your job and you had a year to come to terms with the memories in a new city. Doctor Isles…" Chang released a tremulous, humorless laugh, "Was surrounded by you. She was left to rot. She was left with the false knowledge that you never loved her, and she had to presume, to maintain her sanity, that maybe, maybe you felt just an ounce of regret."

Susie thought of all the times she had knocked lightly on the door to Maura's office and found her with red rimmed eyes and blotchy skin, looking utterly heart broken, and for a moment, she hated the woman sitting across from her.

Hated her a whole damn lot.

"She had to try and comfort herself with hoping that maybe, as you walked away from her and boarded that plane, your eyes watered just a little at the thought of who you were leaving behind. She hoped against hope that you would come back to her…" Susie gritted her teeth, "And you didn't."

"You are going to have to fight like hell to regain her trust. To make her feel like she can believe in you, without questioning every word that comes out of your mouth, you are going to have to kneel, right there in front of her, and beg, and apologize, and promise."

Susie lifted her index finger accusingly, "She loved you, she opened up to you and trusted you with everything she had, and then you threw it back in her face and left. Now, I know," She had to raise her voice to drown out Jane's meek protests, "That you feel you didn't have a choice. But I can tell you right now that she would have packed up a suitcase and gone with you. She would have put that tortoise in a carry case and sat next to you on the plane and gone wherever you wanted to go. To the furthest corner of the earth, to the fucking _moon_ Jane, she would have gone with you without any hesitation. _That,_ is how much she loved you."

The Doctor knew her words were having the desired affect, so she pressed on with confidence, "Whether it was the right thing to do or not, you spat in her face. You all but buried her that day, and then you danced on her grave. She hates you. She has every right to despise the very ground you stand upon. But she also loves you. She worships you with this… This fierceness, this integrity, that people like me only read about. That people like _you_, don't see until it's almost too late."

Susie paused, running the tip of her finger around and around her glass, gazing at the woman across from her, "You did a noble thing Detective, giving up your life so that your family could be safe. You did a noble, selfless thing. Problem is," Susie annunciated firmly with a sip of wine, "It wasn't just your life. It was Maura's life too. You are her life. You, for some unfathomable reason…"

Jane huffed out a grudging, watery chuckle at that as she struggled to process all that was being said, fiddling distractedly with the watch Frankie brought over with some of her other things. The timepiece Maura got her as Christmas present four years ago, engraved with the words _'To Jane, Merry Christmas! With all my love, Maura.'_

Damn she had missed that watch. She liked to read the inscription whenever she was having a shitty day. It possessed the power to immediately lift her spirits and galvanize her into action.

"You fund her very existence. Without you here to counteract that crippling anxiety and self doubt that plagues…" At Jane's stricken look Susie growled our hoarsely and impatiently, "_Yes I know all about it Rizzoli I'm not blind_… The anxiety that plagues her every day… She is a shell. An empty husk."

Doctor Chang stood, towering over the Detective and tipped her empty glass at her challengingly, "We're all counting on you to fill her up again, make her whole and bring her back. Don't cock it up this time around Jane, or you'll have me to answer to."

* * *

**A/N:** I have learned not question my mind when it wants me to write, so here's another chapter. Hope you enjoy!


	8. The Name Game

_"All secrets are deep. All secrets become dark. That's in the nature of secrets."_

**Cory Doctorow**

Andrew Taylor was one of those men who made your skin crawl. People tend to overlook someone like Taylor. He's not particularly handsome or charming, ambitious or intelligent. But there was always something just slightly off about the man. Smile to your face and happily stab you in the back next time you turn around, that was the type of guy Susie Chang though Taylor was. Turns out, she had been right. He had found himself an easy way of getting extra cash in exchange for butchering their hard work reputation. Taylor sold his soul for a couple of bucks. That was what made this entire situation so sickening. Chang knew that dispersed throughout every department there had to be more men and women like Taylor, sliding just under the radar, lurking in the shadows, waiting to seize their opportunities. It made her uneasy. Just reflecting on the corruption that was occurring around them was enough to leave a sickened, hollow sensation in the very pit of her stomach.

That was why she was all too happy to aid in this unorthodox and potentially dangerous investigation. So everyone else worked for their designated pay and did their jobs properly and thoroughly just for a little shit like Taylor, and by extension Newman, to come along and completely eradicate all the good their dedication did? She wasn't about to roll over and let that happen.

Now that she was aware of exactly what had been going on, Susie had done a little research of her own. Sure, she didn't have access to the wealth of information that Detective Frost could source at the click of a button. But, what she did have was a friend who worked for the Boston Globe. That same friend had also noticed some strange things going on in her place of work, and she did not like it one bit. For events to go undocumented and major crimes receiving minimal coverage, if any, was unheard of.

When Susie asked for advice, her friend was all too happy to oblige. For a price, of course. In return, she wanted in. Chang had promised to point her in the right direction as soon as she could. Cassie Fields had taught her a few things over the years. Finding out things that should remain secret was central in her job description, and she had passed on some of her knowledge to Susie. So she had looked into previous cases and discovered some interesting things.

What became apparent is that Newman needs his eyes and ears on the streets, that's why the little guys escape jail time. The larger arrests are reported but with many key details missing. The unreported deaths mean that the public see improvements; they see Boston becoming, less prone to violent crime. Refusing to allow the _smaller_, more i_nsignifican_t cases to reach trial meant a decrease in sentencing. Newman needs the public to see him as a hero, and that his policies are working.

And that is where people like Taylor come in. People who are willing to leave all integrity behind.

Susie had been watching Taylor for almost two weeks now. She felt like she knew the bastard better than she knew her own family for chrissakes. She knew everything from what shifts he worked right down to what he put in his coffee.

Hell, maybe in another life she would have been a damned good cop.

Maybe.

Except that today had been different. She had sent a cheery 'good morning' his way and received no reply. Usually, the smarmy sonuvabitch would be all smiles and false pleasantries. Instantly, her instincts told her that something big was happening.

Well, it would be happening if she didn't know about it. As it stood, she would rather allow Jane Rizzoli to stay with her in her apartment until the end of time than let Taylor do even more damage.

In an instantaneous decision, she decided to follow him into the locker room. In hindsight, her hiding place behind a bunch of lab coats may not have been the greatest idea, but it worked well enough. She overheard a one-sided conversation that consisted of someone stressing, in no uncertain terms it appeared, the importance of this piece of evidence that will be in the lab today. This report, pertaining to a drug bust, is Taylor's responsibility. He was to ensure that the chain of evidence is broken, to make it difficult to admit in court or indeed, by the sounds of it, try and get the thing to disappear entirely.

She could only think of one such case that had just recently been closed. At a residence owned by a Mr. Jonathon Martinez, over five kilos of cocaine were found.

Here is where things get a little odd.

Officers from Narcotics and Vice said that upon entering the home, Martinez opened fire on them.

However, standing here with the Toxicology Report that Taylor had been so pleased about labeling incorrectly and signing off with the name of another technician, Susie was convinced that there was no way in hell that was the way things had happened.

The tox reports from the victim that show he was definitely sedated before he died, and that would have made it impossible for him to fire at the Officers. He would have been at the very least asleep, but probably unconscious.

Susie could only assume that the Officers had planted the gun found in his hand. The large quantities of drugs found at the scene were also most likely placed there to make this arrest look good for the department and for Newman.

She decided that the only thing she could do right now was fix his error. She signed off the report with her own name, making sure to label it as a priority before handing it to Doctor Isles, who was absolutely oblivious to what was happening. But Susie knew that if anyone could be relied upon to ensure that the information contained in the report was treated with care and attention, even though it was in reference to a suspected drug dealer, it was Doctor Maura Isles. She felt safe in the knowledge that the report would be copied and land safely with the correct personnel and also the prosecution as soon as Doctor Isles had finished with it.

'_James Bond? More like Susie Chang.' _She thought to herself with a satisfied smirk as she politely held the door open for Taylor on her way out to lunch.

'_You're going down my friend.'  
_

* * *

"Guys! Guys, here we go, this could be it this could be it!" Frost shouted excitedly, summoning the three other members of their crew to him with his tone and encouraging hand gestures. Susie and Frankie shared a look before gathering around the coffee table. Jane slid along the floor on her knees and focused her attention intently on the lap top, as if she could get Taylor to confess his sins through sheer force of will alone. The foursome stared in anticipation at the screen as the distinct shrill of Taylor's phone ringing played out softly into the room. Frankie broke into a grin when Taylor's voice was the next thing to be heard;

"_Listen, Boss… I dunno how it happened, seriously, like I did just as you said…"_ Taylor could be heard saying nervously, the words coming out slow, deliberate, edged with fear. Frost thought he could hear the distant sound of a foot tapping. Clearly the bastard was terrified.

"_Taylor, are you telling me that the report went through?"_ The voice said, low and gravelly, threatening.

Frost's eyes grew wide in immediate recognition. He turned to Jane, who was returning his wide eyed gaze, fury etched on her face as they shared a moment. Frankie opened his mouth to ask who it was but Frost shook his head frantically at the questioning looks being directed his way, holding a finger to his lips to keep them silent.

"_I did what you said! Someone must've noticed the mistake and fixed it… Either that or someone's onto us."_ Taylor retorted, his voice rising in pitch as his panic increased.

"_I don't really give a fuck about any of that Taylor. You let me down. But this isn't about me. When this gets back… You're on your own son."_ The other voice uttered coldly.

"_But Al…!"_ Taylor all but squealed.

"_I warned you kid. You knew the risks. When he finds out, this is on you."_ The voice said in a matter of fact tone, casually stating that Taylor was to be fed to the wolves.

The line went dead and all that could be heard for a long moment was Taylor's wheezy breaths followed by a string of muttered curse words before he too ended the call.

Frost rocked back into the couch, running a hand over his face and growling into his palm. Frankie shook his knee gently, desperate to know if his own suspicions matched what had rattled his partner so badly, noting the expression of complete incomprehension Jane was wearing. "You know who it is, don't you?" Frankie said breathlessly, "I think I do too…"

Numbly, Frost looked up and said, "Sergeant Alan Nichols. Narcotics and Vice."

Susie swore under her breath, "That's why they planned that drug bust. To make them look good. Newman must have promised Nichols that his department was going to receive a lot of positive media attention… Shit." The Doctor shook her head in disbelief.

"That sonuvabitch! I worked with him for a year!" Jane snarled through gritted teeth, her eyes glittering with fury as Frankie laid a comforting hand on her arm.

Frankie suddenly announced a while later, ceasing the restless drumming of his fingers on the table at a pointed look from Frost, "We need to start tailing Nichols. See who he meets up with and speaks to. We need to have one of us on him at all times. Maybe you could help with that…" His voice tapered off as he looked to his older sister, whose face had brightened considerably.

Frost shot him a withering glare before directing the same glare to Jane, "Hell no. That's way too risky. Think about what'd happen if he spotted you."

Jane rolled her eyes, "I've been doing this job a long time Frosty, I think I know how to tail a suspect by now." She said impatiently.

Frankie's face blanched and he nodded slowly, realizing that his suggestion was probably not the safest option.

Deciding to avoid this debate for now, Frost tapped his cheek, thinking, "We can take it in shifts during the day and at night. Do you think…? Yeah, we'll tell Korsak. It's time to tell Korsak." Frankie nodded enthusiastically, a smile creeping onto his face. Keeping his mentor in the dark had not been something he particularly enjoyed. The smile felt rather alien actually.

He hadn't smiled properly in a long time.

Susie coughed before adding, "I'll speak to one of my friends who works at the Boston Herald, she can keep an eye out there." Frost raised an eyebrow, his distrust of the press apparent in that singular, wordless communication. Susie continued, undeterred, "She's noticed things have been going unreported for quite a while, and if there's anyone that can sniff out who's feeding her colleagues instructions it's Cassie," She said firmly, her eyes almost daring anyone to challenge her.

Frost seemed to mull that over for a moment before he glanced at his partner. Frankie bit his lip and shrugged almost imperceptibly in a _'What could it hurt'_ kind of manner. The older Detective sighed in defeat as he commanded the Doctor sternly, "Keep her in the dark about the details. We don't want to put her in any unnecessary danger. Just say we suspect we have a leak in the department and it would be good to know who is a little too friendly with any of her colleagues."

Susie nodded her acquiescence, making a mental note to refrain from giving Cassie any details that could put her in harm's way. She couldn't have that on her conscience.

She then looked at Jane, "I believe we had a deal Detective."

The Detective swallowed thickly, avoiding eye contact with her three companions. "I know, but where am I supposed to talk to her? I can't just march over to her house, what if someone sees me? What if I bump into my Ma? What if…" Jane stopped, breathing heavily.

Susie felt herself soften slightly at the sight of the complete and utter panic manifesting itself in Rizzoli's face. She reached out and squeezed the Detective's arm, earning a surprised look, "I'll go and stay with Cassie." Susie offered gently, "We need a catch up anyway. And I have to fill her in on what she's looking for at work… So, I'll think of a way to get Doctor Isles over here, and then it's up to you Detective."

Jane nodded slowly, her eyes bright and glassy, before covering the young Doctor's hand with her own.

"Thanks Susie. I'd appreciate that."


	9. Goodbye In Her Eyes

_"The minute people fall in love, they become liars."_

**Harlan Ellison**

Maura Isles. Susie Chang.

They were hardly the best of friends. Colleagues yes, amicable acquaintances, yes. Friends? That might be pushing the boundaries of professionalism slightly. She knew how guarded she had become. When Jane left, there was no other way for her to cope. Maura decided to shut down her emotions and keep everything to herself. Live alone, sleep alone, work alone, suffer alone and stay alone. It seemed like the only way to make it through the pain.

That was why, when Susie extended an invitation to a night of sinful takeaway food and a few glasses of wine in her apartment, Maura was shocked to find herself agreeing before she had even processed the implications of such an evening. She panicked when Susie left her with her paperwork and a bout of hives coming on when she had professed to be _'absolutely fine'_ as the young Doctor took her leave.

Maura panicked because it is through casual invitations like this one that friendships form.

And although she was terribly lonely, terribly sickened by the vast emptiness of her once vibrant home, Maura was not prepared to allow herself to believe someone else genuinely wanted to be her friend.

But Susie had been so kind and understanding over the course of the past year. Once she surpassed the original sense of shock at accepting the invitation, Maura began to feel that it might be nice to talk to another female who knew her. Who operated in her field, who experienced the complications of her occupation and understood its demands.

That was how Doctor Maura Isles found herself walking behind Doctor Susie Chang along the corridor that led to her apartment, taking great pains to pay attention to the thin scraps of conversation her colleague was trying to galvanize into life. The younger woman turned and offered her a somewhat forced and nervous smile as she slipped her key into the lock with one swift motion. Maura wondered for a moment exactly what was behind this locked door. Never before had she entered the home of one of her colleagues, aside from Jane.

The mere thought of the Detective was enough to harden her features and straighten her spine defensively. Susie must have caught the instinctive reaction. For someone who had remained sidelined for such a long time without much recognition of her input, Maura was a little surprised to realise that Susie had kept her secrets and maintained a sense of ultimate discretion and care over their years working together. The young Doctor was clearly intelligent enough to deduce that this was a huge deal for her superior.

Maura had almost been expecting Susie to reach out and pull her into an embrace by the way her face softened momentarily before settling into the impassive expression she had honed to perfection. She then pushed open the door and extended her arm, encouraging her mentor to head through first. With a gentle smile, she said, "After you," to which Maura smiled rather hesitantly and walked forwards, head bowed, focusing intently on her sharp blue heels that contrasted hideously with the interior carpet.

As soon as she crossed over the threshold, she sensed something.

Maura Isles had worked alongside investigators long enough to concede that sometimes, not often, but sometimes, one experiences a 'feeling' that there is something not quite right about the situation one is walking into.

She felt it then. She felt it hit her in the stomach like a physical blow.

And then she could smell it.

That familiar scent haunted her dreams, lingered in and around her on the mornings and nights she just couldn't maintain the wall, where every single ounce of determination and courage crumbled and the memories came flooding back without mercy. A scent she grew to associate with comfort, love and homeliness. The scent she allowed to mingle with her own and become a part of her entity, a part of her very being.

Perhaps this was indeed the scent that Hoyt referred to, for she would swear in a court of law right here and now that not only could she smell lavender, but she could smell lavender and fear.

Maura stumbled back half a step, her head snapping to attention as she barged into Susie who had appeared behind her, as though ready to put her arms out and catch her if she toppled backwards at the sight before her.

How could this be happening?

How could she be here?

Inside Susie Chang's apartment.

Standing in the hallway with her scarred hands shoved deep into the pockets of a pair of old, faded jeans and a standard issue Boston Police Department t shirt covered with a light black cardigan that looked just a little too small for her long frame and her eyes resolutely staring at the floor between her sneaker clad feet like it had personally wronged her in some way and her dark mass of unruly hair hiding most of her pale and rather sickly looking face from view…

**How. Could. She. Be. Here?**

Maura Isles felt bile rise in her throat. A wave of nausea rolled over her like a gentle, yet insistent wave. Her vision faded considerably around the edges, leaving her at the mercy of Susie's hands keeping her upright as shock overwhelmed her and threatened to leave her lying on the floor, completely out cold.

But then she pushed it back.

She pushed back the disbelief, the shock, the myriad of emotions that were shooting through her with the force of a thousand volts, flickering madly between relief, fury, fear, horror, love, HATE.

And she uttered one word. Just one word that succinctly and neatly summed up everything she felt, everything she needed to convey, everything she does not want to hear from the pathetic woman standing in front of her, looking guilty as sin and sick as a dog.

"No." Is all she managed to say. She is delighted, perversely; to note that her voice does not dare waver or tremble under the weight of her emotions. It comes out solid, fierce.

Maura took another step back, bumping into Susie, who managed to exchange positions with her even as her superior is staring wide eyed and slack jawed at her accusingly, shaking her head, running a shaking hand through her mussed curls, hardly daring to glance at the familiar figure standing not even five feet away from her.

Susie quickly grabbed the Doctor's arms before she could run and said desperately, "Listen to me Maura, listen to me right now." Her voice, in contrast to Maura's, is hoarse and pained sounding. "You have to hear her out. I only heard the full story last week, and while I can't say I condone everyone's actions, I understand them. Hear her out, please."

And with that said and once last look cast back at the Detective who was yet to say anything, Susie snatched up her bag and exited her own home, slamming the door behind her with a crushing finality, a parting warning to Jane Rizzoli.

The two women left behind just stared at one another for a long moment. The only sound that could be heard above their harsh breathing was the quiet ticking of the odd looking clock pinned to the wall, the image of the tiny bird etched into the wooden frame stared down accusingly.

Maura turned, her numb hand outstretched and ready to wrap around the handle of the door, but before she was able to grab hold of it she sensed the other woman rapidly moving towards her.

The Detective made the mistake of taking Maura's arm; the momentary contact was enough to send a flash of awareness and familiarity directly through their flesh and into the core of their bodies, leaving them slightly light headed and off balance. Maura recovered first, wrenching her limb from the Detective's grasp with such force that Jane went stumbling into the wall, her hip bouncing against it with a dull thud.

"Get your fucking hands off me right now." Maura snarled, her eyes wild, almost daring the taller woman to touch her again and give her the opportunity to retaliate with even greater force.

Detective Rizzoli had seen this look before. It was primal, feral. It was a deep and far reaching darkness that started in Maura's normally kind eyes and travelled inward, down to her heart.

Jane stepped back, knowing it was safer for both of them to put some distance there and held hands in the air.

Her voice slow and pleading, she begged, "Don't leave, please, let me talk to you…" but was interrupted by Maura hissing out, "What the_ hell_ are you doing here?" with such force that her front teeth clashed against the bottom set and made a _clacking _noise that sent a shiver down the length of Jane's spine.

"We should go and sit down; this is going to take a lot of explaining…" Rizzoli said tentatively, trying a different tactic. She had thought that perhaps meeting on neutral territory with no memories attached to it might work in her favor.

Evidently, she was wrong.

If it were possible, the visceral fury so marked in every nook and crevice of Maura's once pretty face, now butchered by her hatred, grew at the sound of Jane's husky voice, "I don't want to sit down." Maura stated, her tone level and low as she fought the urge to simply draw her hand back and slap her former lover across the jaw. She inhaled sharply, feeling her chest burn, and continued, "I _want_ you to tell me why you're in my colleague's apartment. I _want_ you to tell me why you're here and why I was tricked into seeing you." Maura barked accusingly.

"I don't know where to begin Maura…" Jane all but whispered, voice coming close to breaking.

Maura looked so defeated. So broken and filled with rage. There were new lines around her beautiful eyes, her hair lay flat and lacked its lustrous bounce and her once open and engaging features were now closed off and guarded.

And she was the cause of it.

Maura threw her hand out, lip curling as she said mockingly, "Oh, maybe we could start with the night you left me standing on my front porch, crying out for you to come back and give us another chance?" A bitter laugh escaped the ME, "Or maybe you could start with ignoring my calls. "Or maybe…" She intoned, voice rising in pitch as she sing-songed, "You could even start with the moment you realised that, oh _never mind_ the three years we spent together, _**YOU DIDN'T LOVE ME AFTER ALL!"**_

Maura's voice became an unrecognizable shriek as the fury boiled over and manifested itself in her words.

She made to turn away again as Jane started to plead with her, thick, fat tears rolling down her pale cheeks as she shouted, "I do love you Maura! Please… God Maura, please listen to me…" The Doctor paused, one hand on the door, the other pressed flat against her heaving chest. "I never stopped loving you… I'm sorry, I'm so sorry for leaving. But I had to; I had to keep you and everyone else safe."

Maura shook her head violently, ignoring the urge to spin around and envelop Jane in her arms because, God, she had missed doing that so much that it physically pained her to be within touching distance and not do any touching. She managed to grind out, "You're not making any sense. I'm leaving now. Goodbye Jane."

And then there was a long fingered, scarred hand on her arm again and all rational thought left her with the heat pooling beneath it and seeping through her jacket, past her thin blouse and directly into her skin.

"No wait! WAIT! PLEASE!" Jane pleaded, hearing the door click open.

They stood there like that for a long moment. If someone had happened to be standing nearby with a camera poised to capture them, it might have been the single most heart breaking, yet powerful image ever seen.

Two women, two opposites, dark and light. Only, they were both dark now. For if that camera possessed the authority to go beyond the simplicity of imagery and delve into their souls, then a very different picture would be created.

Dark and dark. No light to be seen.

"You have five minutes."

Jane tried her utmost best to explain everything that happened in the months leading up to her departure in minute detail to save Maura from having to ask any questions that may prove painful for her. She cried shamelessly, begging, pleading and apologizing as she recounted her life over the past year and a half, telling of the corruption that settled inside their second home and of the miserable existence she had been leading without her love.

Maura just sat there, hard faced and stony, not showing any emotion.

Completely closed down.

There was hardness in her eyes. A hardness that wavered every now and then, but only ever so very slightly. Not enough to be noticeable. Perhaps not even enough that she would realise it herself.

Never before had Jane broken down so utterly in front of her. In the past she has lowered her guard, allowed the Doctor to see her at her most vulnerable, but not in this particular manner. This was different. This was pure, unadulterated desperation.

Jane desperately craved understanding. Maybe even forgiveness.

And she finished with a rough wipe of one shaking hand over her tear streaked face as she rasped, "You have no idea how much I hated myself Maura. Every night, I'd lay awake, crying and wishing I could come home to you, make it right… I thought I was doing the right thing. I still do. Your safety was paramount; this was the only way to make them leave you and everyone else alone…"

Maura clasped her hands neatly on her immaculately pressed, tailored suit trousers.

Silence fell hard and rattled like a dying man's cough around them.

"You left."

Maura's voice was cold. Matter of fact. Her gaze never wandered from Jane's face, but there was no emotion in her eyes.

Rizzoli leaned forward as though attempting to alleviate the pain she was feeling stacking up inside her chest like building blocks, reading to fall at any moment and tumble into ruin. "I know I did, and I'm so so sorry Maura." She whispered, "I'm so sorry. Maybe, in time, you could try and forgive me…"

"You left."

"I'm sorry. That's all I can say right now, but I promise I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to you, you have my word Maura, I promise you…" Jane vowed, reaching out with her scarred hands as though intending to take Maura's into her own, enfold them in her larger set and erase the pain of what she had done.

Maura blinked at her, almost like a sleepwalker breaking out of their midnight trance and finding themselves in the backyard with raindrops pooling on the crown of their confused and lost little head.

"You promised me you would never leave. And you left."

Jane spluttered, "But, you can see why… Right? You can see why?"

The Doctor simply asked, face screwed up in utter incomprehension, "You didn't think I would have gone with you?"

Because she would have. Absolutely no doubt about it, Maura would have packed her suitcases and shipped herself and Bass anywhere Jane wanted to go.

She never got the option. Instead, she was left behind.

To rot. To have her emotions and love bleed all over the floor and soak into her broken body because Jane killed her that day.

Without raising a hand to her, with words as her only weapon, Jane Rizzoli killed Maura Isles.

"That was no kinda life Maura; I spent every night in cold, shitty rentals with…" Jane started, shaking her head, but then Maura was on her feet and pointing her finger so close to Jane's face that it almost poked her right between the eyes, effectively cutting her off mid sentence before Maura exploded.

"DO YOU REALLY THINK THAT MATTERS TO ME!?"

Jane leaned back, fearing if she too stood up Maura might take that as a cue to run from the room, "Maura…" she said softly.

"YOU. LEFT. ME. " Maura howled, spittle flying from her mouth. The ME was beyond reasoning now. She was beyond listening to Jane attempt to justify her departure.

She might have left with the intention of keeping everyone safe.

But she still left.

" YOU MADE ME THINK I MADE OUR RELATIONSHIP UP IN MY HEAD! YOU MADE ME QUESTION EVERYTHING ABOUT US! ABOUT MYSELF! EVERYTHING!"

"Please Maur…" Jane choked out…

"NO! You don't get to call me that!" Maura's voice shook with fury much the same way as her finger shook as she kept it leveled at Jane, every breath made it hover higher and then sink again, keeping Jane almost mesmerized by its movements.

"You don't get to come back here with all your sacrificial hero bullshit and expect me to fall into your arms!" Jane finally stood, reaching out for her Doctor, tears streaming down her face, desperately trying to take Maura in those very arms just to help, just to ease her pain, just to hold her again.

"_**DON'T YOU DARE TOUCH ME!"**_

And there it was. The same tone she used in that godforsaken warehouse all those years ago when Jane shot Paddy Doyle.

Pure, archaic, ancient and universal fury. Betrayal.

The voice that said, _'I will never forgive you for this. I will never forgive you Jane Rizzoli.'_

"MAURA PLEASE! PLEASE!"

But Jane's desperate, pleading shouts fell on deaf ears. By the time Jane followed her outside and into the pouring rain, Maura had already leaped inside her vehicle.

She chased after the Doctor nonetheless, knowing it was pointless, knowing she was already gone, watching and screaming as she roared away.

* * *

**A/N:** Well that went well. I know some of you wanted Maura to understand Jane's position, but it's going to take time. I think we're going to have some action in the next few chapters, and I believe it's about time to bring Mr. Newman into it a little more. Hope you enjoyed!


	10. Collision

_"I have loved to the point of madness; that which is called madness, that which to me, is the only sensible way to love."_

**Francoise Sagan**

The measure of whiskey Maura tipped into the glass would not have been recognised in any pub found worldwide. At that moment she couldn't have cared less about decorum or manners or being health conscious. All she wanted was to forget the image of Jane Rizzoli sitting across from her like it was the most normal thing in the world, looking weary and worn and every day of her thirty eight years on this planet. All she wanted was to forever rid the sound of that woman's voice from her tortured mind.

Despite the adoration and respect she once held with regards to Jane's heroism, the selfless way in which she lived her life and protected and served the public and the people she loved, she couldn't galvanise any of those old, powerful emotions in the present.

Seeing Jane again was like swallowing sugar and tasting salt. Something sweet had transformed into the bitterest of poisons. A reunion that would have been joyful in another life was instead another blow against Maura's already beaten and bruised body. Jane was once the most important thing in her life. Not just the most important person, but the most important thing. There was a difference. Material objects she could easily live without, her job, perhaps even her parents, she could learn to live without them eventually, with time and patience.

Surely Jane had suffered too? Alone, hunted, out there running for her life whilst all the time constantly worrying for her family and friends and wondering if each day would be her last. Yes, surely she suffered too. Was that shared suffering enough to justify her departure? Was it enough for Maura to even begin to attempt to draw some understanding, some ounce of forgiveness from her barren heart, left unloved and unwanted for so long?

Jane took her soul with her. Jane had her heart and she ripped it, still beating, from Maura's chest and walked off into the night with it clutched in her hand without even a backwards glance. There was nothing she could do prevent the hate boiling in her veins. The veins that she had tried and tried to empty of that woman, to purge her from the life she attempted to piece back together after Jane left her standing there, cold and alone and afraid.

Now she was expected to forgive that? Now she was expected to simply push through the veil of tears that she slowly but surely drowned beneath and step out into the sunlight as if nothing had changed? As if she hadn't changed over the course of this past year?

Doctor Isles took a generous sip of the glass of whiskey in her hand and paced back and forth between the kitchen and living area, tapping itchy, restless fingers against her thigh. Never had she looked so unlike herself. The night Jane left she went to pieces and lost all sight of reality for a while. That night she dealt with sorrow and disbelief, but there was no sign of the frantic madness present in her eyes now.

Maura looked into the depths of depravity in the eyes of Charles Hoyt. As both a friend of Jane's and as a professional, she sat there in the tiny confines of a room with a serial killer and stared down the madness within his twisted mind. Not once did she feel afraid. To an extent, she felt violated and sickened just from merely being in his presence, but there was no real element of fear. His words, that accusation, _'because you're like me,' _rang true in her ears and straightened out the line of questioning in her brain long since rooted in her lonely past. Maybe she was like him in some ways. Perhaps this all encompassing rage she was experiencing was a result of this buried madness now shedding its rusted chains and coming forwards to claim the position of power.

Maura set a shaking hand down flat against the counter and stood for a moment, head bowed, attempting to control the tears building behind her eyelids. All around her danced ghosts of the past. She feared if she were to raise her head again, even for a second, she would be confronted with a multitude of former selves parading around the house with smiles on their faces and love in their eyes.

For a year this became routine. Maura would sit alone at the counter with a glass of wine or, if it had been a particularly bad day, a spirit of some kind, and she would quietly rewind to a time when she was happy and watch her memories play out before her like a movie on a scratchy, dusty projector.

On nights like those, she could look to the sofa and watch as she and Jane playfully argued over what to watch on television all the while knowing that they would both be asleep before it even reached the halfway point.

On nights like those, she could look out the window and watch Jane patiently rolling a ball to TJ and laughing madly as he attempted to kick at it only to fall over time and time again, relentlessly getting back on his feet, more determined to play than ever.

On nights like those, she could look towards the stairs and watch Jane impatiently dragging their clothes off like they might catch fire if she didn't complete the task quickly enough, their expressions equal parts love and lust, laughter and passion.

Even after a year, Jane remained a constant presence in her house. She was haunted by the good memories and plagued by the bad. It was relentless.

Swallowing the insistent sob perched somewhere inside her throat like a bird of prey waiting for the opportunity to dart down from the sky and snatch its witless meal, Maura stepped away from the counter, still clutching the glass in her hand.

To an outsider, this might have seemed an entirely normal action, but to anyone who knew Doctor Maura Isles, they would have been able to gaze beyond the thin veneer of dissipating self control and into the tumultuous emotions battling within.

Maura reared her arm and threw the glass at the opposite wall with as much might as she could manage, releasing a primal scream of pure rage as it left her hand and soared through the air for an indeterminable amount of time before it made contact and shattered with an impressive crash that rattled the objects lying close by. The sound it made was deafening in the silence, rising above Maura's ragged, hoarse breathing and the rapid beating of her pounding heart.

Doctor Isles stood there, breathing heavily; lank blonde curls plastered to her forehead with cold sweat that lingered on the pallor of her skin and dripped between the youthful freckles.

The chattering, dancing ghosts all paused in their well rehearsed movements, and as a group, looked on in silent, abject horror along with Maura as the shards of glass gently slid and tumbled together on the floor, as if attempting to reform their original shape.

* * *

**A/N:** All of the awards to you guys for having patience, I've been swamped with work the past couple of months so I'm just now getting around to writing. Anyway, this is just a short chapter to get things moving again, I have the next few all planned out so hopefully they should be out as soon as possible. Hope you enjoyed!


	11. Reflect and Repent

_I never could talk to you. The tongue stuck in my jaw. It stuck in a barb wire snare._

**Sylvia Plath 'Daddy'**

Having found an interview room that wasn't currently in use, Detectives Frost and Rizzoli led their superior into the small, brightly lit space. Frost found the mirror on the wall slightly unsettling despite the fact he was on the right side of the law. He supposed that meant they fulfilled their purpose. People are more unlikely to lie if they can see their reflection gazing back at them. Frost had never been wholly convinced of the legitimacy of it until he conducted his own interviews, either solo or with another Detective. It was true; somehow, when faced with themselves, many were indeed inclined to be honest.

Frost stood with his back to said mirror. He feared the guilt weighing so heavily upon him might be magnified tenfold by his reflection, or perhaps it may manifest itself in some physical form if he were to stare for too long. He had just spent the last year lying to a man he trusted and respected, if there was ever a time for those mirrors to perform their duty it was now.

"Sergeant, before we tell you this, maybe you should sit down..." Detective Frankie Rizzoli said softly, wringing his hands restlessly together. This was an action that was reminiscent of his older sister, who habitually pawed at the skin of her hands when nervous. It was a habit Jane developed after her first run in with Charles Hoyt and one that she never quite managed to shift entirely.

Sergeant Vince Korsak lifted one bushy eyebrow and took in the sight of the two younger Officers standing before him. It had been a while since Vince last really looked at his colleagues. Not just a casual, perfunctory glance, but with his mind as well as his eyes. He had failed to notice the rapid aging process that seemed to have taken place almost overnight. Both men had lost weight, their eyes were heavy and red, their work suits were in need of an iron, and Korsak wondered when they had last snatched a full eight hours of recommended sleep.

Korsak immediately felt guilty. He was responsible for them. As their Sergeant and as a friend, he should have paid more attention. It was just so difficult to find the time to do anything but work these days. Jane Rizzoli used to shoulder much of the workload and in her absence, they had fallen behind. The fact that no matter how much evidence he gathered or the amount of time he spent on proper reports and filing many of his cases failed to reach a jury didn't help either.

Although he respected the men as colleagues and cared for them as friends he really was in no mood to play games. Not today, not when they were completely swamped under a backlog of cases, old and new. He wasn't getting any younger, and it was days like this he could feel the combined effect of every year of his life catching up with him.

Korsak rubbed a hand over his unkempt beard, regretting not rising early enough that morning to shave those unruly hairs, and regarded his colleagues with tired, bloodshot eyes, "I don't have to sit down Frankie, whatever it is, make it quick. I've got to get down to the morgue as soon as possible; we're still waiting on the autopsy reports on our vic from Pike." The name fell from his tongue like a drop of blood spat with distaste. He rarely addressed the man by his title. Korsak felt the only person around here who deserved to be called Doctor was Maura Isles. That bumbling fool was certainly not on her level either as a colleague or as a decent human being.

In any other occupations, a pompous, self serving idiot such as Pike could be looked upon as a mere nuisance, someone that could be, for the most part, ignored and discussed in jovial terms at the office Christmas party. When someone like Pike had the responsibility of handling important casework that existed alongside conducting practical autopsies, it became more serious. Korsak, quite frankly, was irritated by the fact Doctor Isles had chosen today to stay off sick. Even though he knew that she wouldn't have done so unless it was entirely necessary, he just couldn't shake off the niggling annoyance at being left to deal with Pike in the midst of this massive workload that had unceremoniously been thrust upon them.

Detective Frost shifted uncomfortably beside his partner, attempting to straighten his already perfectly straight tie by way of avoiding making eye contact with his superior. Since the moment he and Jane decided to keep Korsak in the dark about their arrangement, he had been dreading the possibility of having to confess all. The day of reckoning had arrived, and he could honestly say that never before had he felt so sick to his stomach at the prospect of revealing their deception.

Korsak glanced from one man to the other, categorising their facial expressions and body language with a practiced gaze. He could tell that they were attempting to gather enough courage to confess to something. Without having to hear anything from their mouths, but instead by listening to what their bodies were saying, Vincent Korsak was now alert and mentally prepared to absorb whatever information they were about to divulge.

Alone in the small interview room, the three men looked every inch seasoned professionals. Only when standing directly in front of them would one notice the fatigue etched in every crevice of their haggard faces. Without the presence and expertise of Detective Jane Rizzoli, the team was left with no choice but to alter its dynamics in order to survive. And they had achieved nothing more than pure survival. Arrest and conviction rates were down, Cavanaugh was under constant pressure from the powers that be to improve their statistics, and despite the fact that many Officers were now aware of the corruption seeping into their hard work there was nothing to point them in the direction of putting a stop to it.

Frost swallowed thickly, still avoiding looking directly at the Sergeant, and said, succinctly, "I lied to you Sir," in a voice that, thankfully, held steady. Sensing Korsak was waiting patiently for him to continue and wasn't prepared to interrupt yet, he continued, "A year ago, Detective Rizzoli and I discovered a trail of corruption that led up through certain individuals working alongside us, directly to a member of the Boston City Council... Theodore Newman. He had someone in his pocket at every level, and when he became aware of the fact Rizzoli and I were investigating him..."

Frost broke off, the painful memories still difficult to reflect on, even now. Frankie jumped in, "He started threatening Jane. His men stalked her, Sir, assaulted her at every turn with threats against her and everyone she loves, including Maura. And even TJ for chrissakes," The barely disguised rage and disgust present in the young Detective's tone was the only thing maintaining Vince Korsak's composure.

The moment the words _'He started threatening Jane,' _left Frankie's mouth in a rush, the true reason for Janie's unceremonious departure under a cloud of scorn immediately took shape in his sharp mind.

Having recovered, Frost took over the explanation, "Eventually, we decided that our only option was for Rizzoli to leave. We ran out of time, we ran out of resources and to be honest, he had us running scared. It wasn't a decision we made lightly, to keep you out of it... We wanted to keep everyone safe, or as safe as we could manage..."

Korsak sucked in a deep breath, feeling his lungs expand painfully with the effort of restraining a knee jerk reaction to start shouting.

"Are you trying to tell me," Sergeant Korsak said with forced calm, removing the reading glasses he was slowly becoming more reliant on to allow his hands something to concentrate on other than the strong desire to reach for his gun, "That you let me believe, for an entire year, that Detective Rizzoli left of her own volition, for questionable reasons. You allowed me and everyone else in this department to believe that she might have been _dirty?"_

The levelness of Korsak's voice was perhaps more terrifying than any screams or shouts could ever be. When Korsak lost his temper it was a terrible sight to behold, but this calmness and stillness was just as unsettling. Frost had the distinct feeling that it was doing an excellent job of disguising the pure, visceral rage roiling inside the Sergeant like an approaching storm on the horizon. As intense as his gaze was, Frost couldn't seem to tear his eyes away from the older man's hands, which were diligently and deliberately polishing the same spot over and over again on his glasses.

"Yes," Frost stated simply, unable to defend his actions any further. He needed to be honest; he needed to release the wealth of lies and pain that had been building inside him for so long, "Yes, that's what we're telling you. We made what we believed to be the right decision at that point." He hung his head like a child chastised, "I'm sorry Sir. I am truly sorry for lying to you."

In another situation, in another time, perhaps if he was a younger man, Vince might have lost his temper. He was angry, yes. He could feel the rage bubbling just beneath the surface of his outward calm. He was also confused; this new information was yet to make complete sense to him. However, his mixed emotions were, for the moment, being kept at bay by an overwhelming amount of pity and sorrow.

Korsak took a breath, "So what's changed? Why are you telling me this now?" He growled, running a glare over each man's face, leaving them feeling like school boys as opposed to Detectives.

"Because she's back Sir. She's back," Frankie chipped in, "We brought her back after finding some new information that we think..."

"_Hope,"_ Frost corrected sharply.

"That we _hope _we might be able to use to expose the people helping Newman, and eventually, bring him down!" Frankie sounded excited. His entire face seemed to glow animatedly and Korsak found himself having to look away from the outpouring of enthusiasm he was witnessing. It made the Detective ache to see Frankie looking so young and hopeful when they had been stripped of such luxuries for almost a year.

Korsak chewed on his lower lip for a moment. When he spoke, his voice was clipped and hard. It was the voice of someone who had lost patience. "I want to hear the whole story. After we're finished here, you're taking me to wherever Jane is, and you're going to explain everything to me. _Everything,"_ He enunciated gravely, "And then we'll discuss the fact you kept this from me for a year."


	12. Strategy

_An earthly kingdom cannot exist without inequality of persons. Some must be free, some serfs, some rulers, some subjects._

**Martin Luther**

The sound of the doorbell echoing inside Susie Chang's apartment used to signify nothing but normality, pure and simple. A friend calling round, a delivery, a neighbor, but now it had become a warning. For some reason she couldn't define, it reminded Susie of the air raid sirens used to send people scurrying for shelter during the wars. Whenever the bell rang, Jane and Susie, regardless of what they were doing, would gravitate towards one another and stand for a moment, white faced and glassy eyed, wondering if this was the moment they were to be discovered.

Thankfully, today was not that day. Upon opening the door Susie breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of three men she was entirely comfortable with allowing into her home. Detective Frankie Rizzoli, although clearly exhausted, flashed a toothy smile when she met his gaze. In an attempt to conceal the blush creeping into her cheeks Susie opened the door wider and stepped aside, smiling privately when she heard Frost whispering a reminder to his colleagues to wipe their feet.

Vincent Korsak stopped in front of her for a moment staring down with something indefinable in his expression. Susie suspected that it might be a mixture of gratitude and concern. Eventually, he said, "I'm sorry you're involved in this Doctor," in his gravelly voice. Chang deserved to be addressed with her official title, just as Maura Isles did.

Susie lifted her gaze and locked onto the red rimmed set of her colleague, wondering exactly what kind of toll this whole situation had taken on him. She hoped they would be able to rectify everything that had happened between them. Susie simply couldn't stand the thought of the team breaking apart.

"To be honest Sir," Chang said, closing the door firmly and sliding the bolts into place once all three were safely inside, "Given the opportunity, I wouldn't back out of it." Her eyes flashed, "This is my job too, my city, my livelihood. This stretches far beyond the homicide department, and to ensure that we root out the culprits, I'm convinced that you're going to need all the help you can get."

Korsak appeared to mull that over whilst he regarded Doctor Chang with narrowed eyes. He couldn't place what was so different about her. Before all this, he held a great deal of respect for her thoroughness and ambitious nature, but now that she was immersed in this, something had changed. He thought he could see a fire inside her eyes. One that was burning just as bright, if not brighter, than the fires he had witnessed building inside Frost and Frankie.

With a nod, Susie drew his attention to someone standing behind him. He knew who it was before he turned around, but when he did, no amount of prior preparation could have prevented the surge of emotions that surfaced from the depths of his conscious mind when he looked upon Jane Rizzoli for the first time in a year.

He wasn't surprised by the tears in his eyes, but he was shocked by the ones he could see clearly in Jane's.

He took a hesitant step forwards as if terrified any sudden movements might prove that this was actually a dream, and the familiar figure before him was merely an apparition apt to dissipate at any moment. Those doubts soon fled as he felt a pair of thin, yet incredibly strong arms wrap around his ample frame. Jane held onto him like she too was afraid of him disappearing.

"Welcome home Janie," Korsak muttered softly, giving the woman in his embrace a gentle kiss on the cheek as Frankie, Frost and Susie squeeze passed them in the narrow hallway to give them a minute of privacy.

* * *

I found it difficult to even look Korsak in the eye when we each took our place in the now slightly cramped living room. Susie was in the kitchen preparing tea again. As I commented during our last meeting, she had turned out to be quite the domestic goddess. She ran a tight ship here. Her meticulous attention to detail in the workplace evidently traversed the line between her professional and home life.

The sense of shame and guilt I felt in the presence of one of the most important men in my life was almost overwhelming. Korsak mentored me. He vouched for my ability to remain objective after my encounter with Hoyt. He saved my life more than once. He kept his faith in me strong and alive when my own faltered and failed. In the past, I've taken my frustrations with the job out on him. Korsak would take my snide remarks and bitchy behavior in his stride because in his opinion, I was worth it. Our partnership, and later our friendship, was worth the amount of pain I seem to drag with me wherever I go.

The fact that whenever I did happen to catch his eye I saw nothing but love and relief was making this a hundred times more difficult. A part of me wanted him to lose his temper and start rampaging around Susie's apartment, screaming and shouting about how we should have told him everything right from the beginning, about how I shouldn't have just got up and left without so much as a _'see you around sir.'_

Korsak was clearly accommodating our reasoning, or specifically, mine. He tended to accept my decisions for the most part, and when they were wrong, he would be there to help me pick up the pieces. The sad thing was he probably does it because he's afraid to lose me. I would never have turned my back on him and kept him in the dark for so long if I could have avoided it. If there's one person who deserved to know the whole truth and nothing but the truth after all the shit we've been through, it's Vince Korsak.

"So..." Susie Chang said, breaking the awkward silence that had descended moments ago on her living room by passing around a tray of sandwiches and tea. The youngest member of the group then lifted her recently freed hands in the air and said, "What's our strategy now that we're all here?" as she dropped into the last free spot beside Frankie, who went a little red and pushed himself further into the material of the couch.

_Not everyone,_ I couldn't help but think. If Maura had come tonight I'm not sure how I would have handled it. After she drove off and left me standing in the middle of the street, which I shouldn't have done anyway, I had no other choice but to trudge back up to Susie's, sobbing like a fool. I didn't have a vehicle, and I couldn't exactly start calling cabs and attracting unwanted attention.

There was nothing I wanted more in the world in that moment than to just chase after her and force her to forgive me through whatever means were necessary. If she wanted to slap me, that would be fine, I deserved that. Hell, she probably wanted to run me over in her car, and that would have been just fine too, so long as after it she bent down and told me all was forgiven.

Frost's voice brought me back to the present with a sharp jolt. For the first time since I returned he sounded more like his old self. That quiet little edge in his tone that made him sound young and lost had almost entirely disappeared, and now when he stood up and began pacing, it wasn't frantic. It wasn't the agonized actions of a caged animal. No, this was more like what we used to do when a case was about to take off at a hundred miles an hour. When we started to really get our teeth into something juicy, our bodies jangled with nervous excitement and too much coffee, and we'd have to walk some of it off. That's what Frost was doing now, and it installed a spark of confidence in me that I hadn't experienced for a while.

"We need to start tailing Nicholls as soon as possible. Susie, you got any paper?" Frost said and hurried over to the sideboard when Susie pointed in that direction. He produced a notepad and a pen a few seconds later and knelt down by the coffee table. He scribbled furiously whilst we looked on in silence. Everyone was quietly working their way through the food except me. I couldn't bring myself to touch anything, not even the coffee Susie generously made me.

Frost tore at the pad and held up a sheet of paper, looking at us resolutely. It was a rota of some sort, with our initials scrawled inside small, uneven boxes beneath erratic numbers. I could sense Susie cringing nearby. No doubt she'd have to rewrite the damn thing, using a ruler to ensure every line was as straight as possible. The through made me smile. Doctor Chang was growing on me so much that I was slowly starting to see her as more than my colleague and the person keeping my sorry ass safe. It was strange to regard Susie as a friend, but I could sense the subtle shifts in our relationship like tectonic plates with every hour that went by.

"Frankie and I can take the first shift, then Korsak and Jane, then, if you want, Susie and I," Chang responded to his implied question with a nod and an impatient roll of her eyes. I was convinced she'd had just about enough of us curbing the extent of her involvement. "And so on and so forth."

Korsak took the sheet of paper from Frost's hand, commenting, "We'll have to be extremely careful about his. Nicholls is a respected and revered guy back at the station. Plus, as you said, there's definitely more people involved in more than one department. Whatever level they're on, if anyone gets an idea that we're watching him... It won't go down well."

"We could borrow a car, or hire one?" Frankie suggested, slurping down the last of his tea appreciatively.

Frost winced, nervously running his palms over his work suit pants, "I'm not sure about hiring, if there's anyone monitoring our credit card transactions or our movements, I don't like the thought of them having that information to use against us, say for harassment, if they realise we're onto them and decide to stop us from taking it any further."

"So borrowing then?" Frankie said, shooting a glance my way, "I could always ask Tommy and Lydia..."

I cut him off by frantically shaking my head, "No way, we're not getting them involved in this again. Remember what happened to TJ?" I snapped, _"No way,"_ I said again, louder this time, just to make sure they got the message.

"Well we could borrow my Mother's car?" Susie piped up. When everyone's attention was on her, she shrugged, "She never uses it, says the world would be better of without them," There was a smile in her voice as she said that, but it wasn't visible on her face, "It's in good condition, my Father keeps it..." She paused, swallowed, and then said, "_Kept_ it maintained. It's a solid Ford; it'll be pretty inconspicuous, dark color, the windows are kind of tinted too, so it'll be difficult for anyone to get a good look inside…"

I nodded slowly with what I hoped was a neutral expression on my face, "Okay," I said gently; mindful of the way Susie had altered the tense of her sentence, "Okay, that sounds like an idea."

"You got all the documents and certifications Susie? If we get pulled over, we can't afford to have our asses hauled to the station," Korsak interjected.

Susie pushed her glasses up her nose, "I don't have them here, but I can get them."

"Alright then," I said under my breath.

"Alright," Frost conceded, passing the rota over to allow me a closer look.

It was time for an old fashioned stakeout.


	13. Rendezvous

_A photograph is a secret about a secret. The more it tells you, the less you know._

**Diane Arbus**

The interior of the vehicle being used as a cover for their surveillance of Sergeant Alan Nicholls fluctuated between unbearably warm and freezing cold. Deciding against taking the risk of letting the engine remain idle for long periods of time to allow the air conditioning to blow great gusts of cool air over them too often, the hours passed by in a haze of stuffiness interspersed with rare intervals of respite from the heat. The stench of expectation and stale coffee would most likely remain trapped inside poor Mrs Chang's car for the foreseeable future.

Four days had gone by since their first shift tailing Nicholls, and so far they had found nothing more interesting than the fact he frequented a particular Chinese take out more evenings on his way home from work than was good for his ever expanding waistband. This facade of normality being maintained by their once trusted colleague was sickening for all of them, and indeed on a number of occasions they had all been tempted to step out of their vehicle and confront the man, face to face, with nowhere for him to run to and nobody to hide behind.

To immediately attempt to expose Nicholls would of course be of no use. Their distinct lack of evidence against someone of his calibre would be laughed out of the station and outright dismissed before it ever made it to court, and they would be no closer to rooting out Newman and his agenda.

Frankie supposed his involvement in this scheme would probably cost him his entire career if it came to light before they got the chance to lay out their cards for Lieutenant Cavanaugh and, hell, why not be fantastical about the whole thing, maybe the FBI or something as equally important. On the other hand, he was more than willing to sacrifice his career, his livelihood, and even his life if it meant ensuring the safety of those he loved. This realisation, which came to him as he watched Alan Nicholls going about his daily business without a care in the world, was just another thought in a long line of similar instances that allowed him to forgive Jane just a little bit more.

Susie Chang's tendency to be thoroughly accurate about many of the things she talked about extended to her assurances that her mother's rarely used vehicle would be more than adequate for a stake out. The inconspicuous nature of it allowed them to blend in quite easily amongst the other standard vehicles lined up against the sidewalk in Nicholls' pleasant neighbourhood. Indeed their position was one that granted them a practical view of the front entrance to the unremarkable home of their superior without being obviously in his line of sight if he were to look directly outside.

By day four Frost figured his interest should be waning by now. The opposite was in fact true. Usually, he or Jane would have grown impatient with the tediousness of a venture such as this one that had yielded no results, and would either change tactics or start planning another possible way of gathering information. Frost decided that this new found patience and a honing of his ability to remain in the shadows with greater ease was a result of his hellish year.

Married for almost twenty two years, Sergeant Nicholls and his wife Fiona had a relationship many of his colleagues, both equals and underlings, unabashedly envied. With two teenage daughters and an apparently steady home life, Nicholls appeared to have it all. Frost spent an evening compiling an obscene amount of data on the Nicholls family, from where and when they met to how well their children were performing in school, and overall it made for relatively boring reading. He dedicated a further day to coaching the others and ensuring each of them knew more about the Nicholls than anyone else could ever claim to know. There was a necessity about all of this. It was necessary to know the enemy, and even though the rest of the family could very well be innocent bystanders, there was always the risk that Nicholls might have involved his beloved wife in his double life.

Yesterday evening Korsak and Jane had just finished their shift, and burst into Susie's apartment with some interesting news. The wife and daughters were going to be staying at her Mother's for the entire weekend, thus leaving Nicholls to his own devices. By rights, if Nicholls was about to hold any secret meetings or invite any of his fellow conspirators for a night of intricate planning and dealings, now would be the time.

Despite their initial sense of expectation and excitement at the prospect of finally catching Nicholls participating in incriminating behaviour as opposed to the mundane occurrences they had thus far witnessed, Frankie was now about ready to call it a night. He and Frost had just watched almost every room being systematically plunged into darkness in the Nicholls household. They had followed the older man's silhouette around his four bedroom household until only one room remained illuminated on the top floor.

Frost was immersed in the delicate process of stretching out the abundance of knots in his neck when he felt a strong hand clamp down hard on his arm. He shot Frankie an indignant glare that went completely unheeded before turning his attention to whatever had his partner on the edge of his seat quite literally.

His heart lifted. Tottering up the front lawn was a woman. In the dim light they could just make out the rather provocative outfit this new arrival was wearing for her night time rendezvous. Dressed in a sheer black dress with no back to it, and the highest set of heels both men had ever seen, the as yet to be identified woman approached the house with no apparent reservations. Her glossy dark hair shimmered beneath the light of the moon as she sauntered casually to the front door, wielding what they had to assume was a key.

Frankie hesitantly held up the camera, his mouth agape, and began taking pictures. The front door swung open and the woman stepped inside, casting one backwards glance around the otherwise still and peaceful street, granting Frankie the opportunity to snap at least three clear photos of her face. He thought if he had seen this woman before he would remember it distinctly, for her features were unmistakable. Her slightly prominent nose was the defining section of a pretty face that had fallen victim to a make up brush with no restraint.

The atmosphere inside the vehicle had changed dramatically in the time it had taken for the woman in the black dress to make her way inside their suspect's house. Where the air had previously been stifling with disappointment and crushing boredom, it was now charged with the kind of excitement that only a moment like this could bring.

Detective Rizzoli manoeuvred the camera with an almost professional ease, directly it swiftly towards the one window with light spilling out. He praised whichever entity that might be listening for the fact Nicholls was yet to draw the curtains, and bit his lip whilst he waited for the new arrival to make her grand appearance in what he had deduced was a spare bedroom.

"C'mon, where are you, where are you? Come to Frankie," Rizzoli murmured under his breath, much to Frost's chagrin, as he held the camera steady and focussed his sole attention to the window.

Nicholls came into frame for a fraction of second, but Frankie missed the shot. Cursing under his breath, he willed both of them to make their way over to the bed via the window so he could grab the money shot. His leg bounced up and down frantically whilst he waited, conveying the state of unresolved tension in his body to Frost, who was leaning over Frankie's shoulder from a distance away to watch the window with his own two eyes.

Another thirty seconds or so went by, and Frankie could feel the beads of sweat trickling down his spine and began to count them along with how many times he could feel a nerve in his temple pulsating. And then, the light from the last remaining window was blocked for a moment as two bodies moved across the room. Frankie let out a hiss of satisfaction as Nicholls and the unidentified woman fell into a sickening display of affection for the world to see if it happened to be looking.

The camera clicked and whirred in the silence of the vehicle which was broken only by the triumphant little air punches Frost was indulging in beside his partner. Four days of patience had finally proven worth it. His hunch had paid off. Frost had been convinced that they would be able to discover something they could hold over Nicholls should they need to pump him for information, or even to force him into co-operating if they made an arrest.

The woman suddenly seemed to think better of pawing at Nicholls with the curtains wide open, and moved to close them. Unfortunately for her, she had been relieved of her dress by this point, and Frankie snapped one last image of the woman extending her arms to close off Nicholls sordid evening from the rest of the world in only her underwear.

Although Frankie didn't exactly enjoy this voyeuristic aspect to their stake out, he knew that if these pictures were to be laid out in front of Nicholls, they might have a chance at convincing him co-operation would be of benefit to him as well as them.

* * *

When the initial furore had died down after Frankie and Frost revealed the images of Nicholls and his mistress in all of their glory, Jane settled for clapping a congratulatory hand against her brother's back with a slightly more serious expression on her face than was perhaps warranted by the occasion. This was a defining moment in her understanding that her younger brother was now a Detective. He was on a level with her, and she could finally see evidence of it in front of her, rather than it remaining an abstract concept she had considered during her year apart from him.

Susie beamed at him from across the room, her face flushed with excitement behind her glasses. The frames were red today, and he couldn't help but wonder if she selected the colour that accurately conveyed her current mood.

"This is _excellent,"_ Jane practically crowed, flicking through a few particularly provocative pictures with a mildly disgusted grimace, "We finally got something on the slippery bastard," she bumped her fist with Frost, who was looking pleased with himself as he sipped at the brandy Susie poured for Frankie and himself when she first heard of their exploits.

"Korsak's gonna love those," Frost commented lightly, nodding at the shot of their mystery woman exposing herself to the street as she drew the curtains, ironically to protect her privacy.

Jane's face twisted in a moue of distaste and she then aimed a punch at his legs from her position on the floor, "Ew," she commented dryly as she and Susie shared an amused glance.

The older man had elected to remain late at work and cover the bulk of their paperwork to allow Frankie and Frost to take the late shift. When they had protested his sacrificial offer, he waved them on without so much as a word. His pointed glare was enough to convey what he didn't bother to say. His responsibility was to hold the fort and keep Cavanaugh from growing suspicious. They needed their superior on side for whenever the time came to eventually make their accumulating evidence public.

"Tell them about Fields," Jane instructed Susie as she tossed herself onto the nearest armchair, clutching a bottle of beer in one hand.

Susie's eyes gleamed as she too took a seat, "Well," she drawled, drawing the attention of her two male friends to her with only one word. It was oddly comforting to see how comfortable they were around her now. The fact she could feel friendships forming between them as opposed to their relationship being simply borne out of necessity was a thought she found encouraging as well as a little daunting,

"Cassie's been keeping an eye out for us, just like we asked her to," Susie flicked her eyes over to Jane, who nodded at her, "And it appears one of her fellow reporters has been getting friendly with one of the Detectives in Nicholls department. George Henderson."

Frankie choked, prompting Frost to give his back an enthusiastic slap. When the youngest Detective had recovered enough to speak, he wheezed out, "Not George! He's a good guy; he helped me when I was just starting out in Vice..."

Susie shrugged helplessly as she hastened to add, "We don't know for sure if he's involved," she reminded the room "Just that he's been meeting up with Karen Myers, who works the crime desk."

"Sounds pretty involved to me," Frankie groused, and Susie threw him an apologetic look.

Jane watched their interaction with an arched eyebrow before interjecting, "Well, we'll keep an open mind for now," she said diplomatically, "But in any case, Susie and I are gonna follow her to her next meeting with him."

Jane refrained from mentioning that one of them would have to follow Myers into whichever cafe or restaurant she chose to meet with Henderson in order to determine the content of their discussion.

Her old partner gave her a level look as he deliberated over whether to debate her assertion. Before he got the chance to put himself forward as a replacement for Jane on the venture, he was interrupted by Frankie.

"We can run_ LBD_ through our facial recognition software, see if we get hit with a driver's license or something," He suggested, running a hand back through his hair, which in Jane's opinion was badly in need of a cut.

Frost nodded tiredly, "We can, but we'll have to do it during lunch or something. We can't keep using up our time on the job for this. Cavanaugh's gonna notice soon, and Korsak can't cover for us forever," he warned.

During their exchange, Jane privately rolled her eyes at the nickname her brother had selected for the late night companion of Sergeant Alan Nicholls. Apparently identifying the woman by her clothing was preferable to simply referring to her as an unknown subject. In any case, finding out the identity of LBD would prove another piece in their growing puzzle, and she hoped it would lead them to more.

Then she could focus on what was of utmost importance to her; winning back the trust of Maura Isles.


	14. The River Lethe

_Love never dies a natural death. It dies because we do not know how to replenish its source. It dies of blindness and errors and betrayals. It dies of illness and wounds; it dies of weariness, of witherings, of tarnishings._

**Anais Nin**

Doctor Susie Chang ordered a black coffee and sat at a table by the window. Directly behind her was Karen Myers, who was at that current moment urgently tapping away on her laptop as though her life depended on it. Susie spotted the young reporter as soon as she stepped into the establishment after spending a solid twenty minutes arguing with Detective Jane Rizzoli over who should be the one to eavesdrop on this meeting between their two suspects. Susie won that battle in the end, but it had not been easy. Her ears were ringing even now.

Karen Myers was a good looking woman, Susie noticed that immediately. Her hair was reminiscent of Doctor Maura Isles' tawny locks, although today the woman's tousled mane looked a little worse for wear, probably due to a late night of tossing and turning. Although Myers' eyes were downcast and focussed intently on the screen before her, Susie caught a glimpse of a pair of baby blues as she casually sauntered past and slipped into the adjacent booth, facing away from her charge in an attempt to maintain anonymity.

It should be easy enough to feign ignorance if Henderson recognised her upon his arrival. The cafe was a popular hang out and at this moment was all but filled to capacity. There was no reason she shouldn't choose to dine here, and that, coupled with the ear buds dangling around her neck, should convince the Detective that her presence was simply down to chance.

That didn't mean she wasn't nervous as hell, not by a long shot. Nevertheless, she would much rather she be the one seated here, waiting to listen to a possibly incriminating discussion, than any other member of her small team of colleagues. Indeed, these colleagues were slowly morphing into friends. Good friends. It was a new and somewhat daunting prospect. Having dedicated much of her life to her studies and then to a demanding job with hours that were often unreliable and long, Susie never cultivated lasting friendships well.

No, if someone had to place themselves in a potentially dangerous situation, then it would be her. Jane Rizzoli was too recognisable. Everything about her screamed _cop_, never mind the fact she was a public figure being hounded by Newman. She knew there would come a time when her ability to fade into the background and remain unnoticed would prove useful, and it appeared that day had come.

Even before she heard Myers give her companion a bright sounding greeting, Susie sensed the arrival of Detective George Henderson. She automatically tensed, waiting for the hulking man to approach her table and physically haul her out from under it, demanding to know why she was seated there, listening, in a place she should not be. Only when she heard Henderson return the _'hello'_ in his deep voice did Susie begin to relax slightly.

Doctor Chang could see them in her mind's eye. She allowed the tiny sounds of their movements to form a mental picture and watched the scene unfold as if she was facing them head on. Henderson would be dropping down into the booth with a small grunt, and Myers had her legs pulled back far enough so there could be no contact. The Detective would now be reaching for the coffee pot between them, pouring a healthy amount before drawing the waitress over and ordering a large breakfast.

She gripped her phone tightly in one hand and hit record. If they were going to gather evidence without the law behind them, they might as well do it properly. Susie took a shallow breath and forced herself to take a sip of her still scalding coffee, forcing every ounce of concentration onto the two people behind her. She filtered everything else out of her mind. The general hum of conversation flowing between her fellow patrons, the sound of coffee being poured from a distance, the waitress calling back to the kitchen, the child chattering merrily away to his mother, she removed it all and categorised it as irrelevant. Soon, she was left only with the two very distinctive voices from behind.

"So," Myers began in a sickly sweet tone that made Susie wince. She had never been a fan of women who portray themselves as being childlike and stupid in front of the opposite sex, "Do we have anything to report?" the reporter enquired. Susie felt a swoosh of air against the back of her head as Myers swept her hair back extravagantly, and she fought against the grimace worming its way onto her features. Her instant dislike for this woman was increasing by the second, and she was powerless to stop it.

Susie heard Henderson cough pointedly and Myers whispered an obviously fake apology in a murmur. Then the Detective said, his voice low, so that Susie had to move her phone across the table in an attempt to catch what he was saying, "The Sergeant wants me to tell you that you've to take it kinda easy, just go over that drug's bust from last week and stuff like that..."

There was a pause, during which Susie Chang could practically feel the disappointment and fury radiating from Karen Myers through the very air between them.

"Hey, don't look at me like that!" Henderson said defensively, "It's not my fault man, something happened to Cox... He just packed up and left, not a word to anybody!"

The Detective must have realised he was steadily growing louder and reduced the level of his voice accordingly, presumably leaning closer to his companion considering Susie could still hear his muttering relatively easily.

"And Taylor fucked up big time, the Boss ain't happy with him at _all," _he intoned, with a conspirational note as though he was allowing Myers to be privy to some massive secret that nobody else could know about. Susie knew he was trying to placate Miss Myers, but she didn't see it ending well for him today. Regardless of this odd setup between them, which was clearly mutually beneficial, Myers was a reporter, and she would not take kindly to being told she had no story to print.

Henderson slurped from his cup of coffee, and then spoke again, this time with his mouth so full of food his words came out in a muffled, jumbled mess, "You know that guy you wrote a story on last week, from that bust? Well somebody changed Taylor's report, so when it goes through..." Another break during which Susie assumed Henderson shook his head, "The drugs in his system will show up. Taylor's in the shit something awful."

"George," Myers said, this time her voice was hard, serious, "Are you telling me that someone's realised what's going on and is trying to expose what's happening? It seems like a terrible coincidence for_ two_ of your guys to suddenly start getting caught out like that..."

Susie's felt her shoulders grow rigid. She couldn't seem to shake the image of Myers and Henderson realising who had been sitting there, right beside them, listening and hanging on their every word. An icy bead of sweat rolled down the Doctor's back and she swallowed thickly, glancing down at her now half empty coffee cup and praying that the waitress wouldn't notice and swoop in with a refill. She couldn't afford to draw attention to herself. Not now. Not when Henderson was so close to incriminating himself and Nicholls.

"Nah," Henderson snorted dismissively, "Those two have always been pretty fucking useless," he said with confidence, prompting Susie to roll her eyes, "It'll settle down again Karen, don't worry yourself about it. Sergeant Nicholls told me just yesterday that something big is gonna be going down soon, and you'll be the first to hear about it."

Suitably satisfied with that rather vague promise, Myers returned to that sweet, smarmy tone of moments ago, "I'll cover your Department's recent successes, and I'll make sure you get a special mention," Susie shuddered, imagining the wink that most likely accompanied that statement, "That should keep my Boss happy for now, but I'll need that new story ASAP," she snapped her fingers, emphasising her point.

"Oh yeah," Henderson agreed readily, "Definitely! And... Here's your half of the cash," there was the sound of shuffling, of a purse being opened, of money being exchanged hands, and Chang felt herself growing slightly giddy. This was actually happening_. Right behind her._ She finally felt useful, after being helpless for so long, after being a passenger for the duration of the past year she was now firmly in the driver's seat, and when it came down to it, she was going to make damn sure that everyone involved paid dearly for their actions.

As soon as Henderson and Myers parted ways with a promise to meet up again next week at roughly the same time on Wednesday, Susie leapt from her booth and paid the bill in a daze. Jane would be tearing strips off the upholstery with her teeth by now; poor woman didn't have much patience. She probably thought Chang had been brutally murdered in the ladies room or something, considering she'd been in the cafe for almost an hour in total.

Indeed, as she walked smartly through the parking lot she caught sight of Detective Rizzoli peering out of the window, watching her approach with such naked relief evident on her face that Susie was taken aback for a moment. Never before had she considered that Jane would particularly care about her wellbeing. Sure, if something happened to her the Detective would go all out, but in everyday life Susie figured that Jane saw her as something of a nuisance, someone who provided her with information and then disappeared until the next time she was needed.

Doctor Chang slid into the driver's seat and beamed at the Detective, whose face was shining with sweat, her cheeks pink and eyes bright, "What the _fuck_ took you so long?" Jane whined from way back in her throat, wiping her brow with the back of a hand, muttering a string of curses under her breath.

"Well do excuse me," Susie smirked, "I couldn't exactly ask them to hurry their little meeting up now could I?"

Jane pulled a face and then nodded to the phone still clutched tightly in Susie's hand. Her eyes were now awash with a feral kind of hunger, like a famished animal coming across wounded prey, "Tell me," Jane rasped, closing her eyes in silent prayer, "That you got something, please," she enunciated, clenching her thumb and forefinger together to emphasise how desperate she was for good news.

As Susie started up the engine she shot the Detective a smug grin, "Let's put it this way, you might have some competition for your job someday soon."

I was in the middle of describing, in great, laborious detail, exactly how scared I was when Susie had taken so long inside the cafe to the rest of the group when the doorbell rang. Frost paused, his hand halfway to his open mouth, chopsticks hanging limply in midair which caused a piece of chicken to fall into his lap in slow motion. Frankie set his glass down on the table with deliberate calm, his hand automatically snaking its way towards the gun strapped to his hip, just as mine was in the process of doing.

We stood as a group, prepared to face whatever danger might possibly be waiting for us on the other side of Susie's front door, but it was the Doctor who made a move into the hallway. Frankie followed close behind, gun in hand but still resting just inside its holster. Korsak, Frost and I hung back, prepared to either shoot our way out or make a run for it. If Newman's men had tracked us here there would be no room for negotiation. I had a feeling that the next time I came face to face with him or one of his own it would be shortly before I inhaled my last breath.

I watched as Susie shot Frankie a sharp look as she slid the deadbolt across, setting her shoulders and widening her stance, physically preparing for a potential onslaught. My chest was burning fiercely, tiny prickles of heat danced across my eyelids, making it extraordinarily difficult to concentrate on what was unfolding.

The door opened and I felt every single body around me tense, waiting for a hail of bullets to rain down upon us, anticipating the stinging pain of torn skin and bloodied wounds. As Susie stepped back, there was a symphony of sighs and grunts of pure relief.

That is, except for me. I remained in the same position, jaw agape, trying to make sense of what I was seeing. The woman standing in the now open doorway couldn't possibly be Doctor Maura Isles, she had practically washed her hands of us, and yet, there she was.

She was a vision, a mirage, a ghostly body from another world. My god, did she look stunning. Despite the fact her face was pale and withdrawn; her natural beauty was one that no amount of sleep deprivation, sadness and pain could ever entirely eradicate. She looked better than when I saw her last, her hair was fuller, it had regained some of its bounce, and she was wearing dark, skin tight jeans, boots and a cream cashmere jumper which made her look both refined and youthful.

I could scarcely breathe, and when she spoke, I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me whole and deliver me to hell right there and then; such was the guilt and sorrow I felt pressing down on me from all angles.

Maura Isles quirked an eyebrow in greeting as she tentatively took a step inside, "Hello Susie," she said smoothly as her apprentice closed the door behind them, looking up at her colleague with utter incomprehension as if they were all participating in some sort of shared delusion. She then nodded to the other members of our group in turn, all aside from me, whom she avoided making eye contact with until the very last second, and even then, her eyes were empty when they landed on me. It was as if she had wiped her mind clean of every single image, every memory, every moment we shared together, and now there was merely darkness. Maura had doused her hands in the river Lethe, scrubbed her heart and cleansed her soul, waking blank brained and weary of it all.

I had to start coughing to disguise the fact I was a sobbing, screaming mess inside.

"Frankie told me about your meeting earlier today and I decided that I wished to be brought up to date with what exactly has been going on in each of our departments. Do you think that would be possible?" Maura phrased her request as a question, but really there was no doubt in anyone's mind that it was nothing short of a demand. Doctor Isles meant business tonight; I could see it in the steeliness in her expression, her precise movements and her short and to the point sentences.

Korsak moved forwards, sweeping Maura into the sitting room with a wave of one bulky arm, effectively placing himself between the two of us, blocking my view of her, "Of course, come on Doc," he said, ushering her out of the hallway.

I sagged against the wall as soon as she left my sight, unable to remain upright for even a second longer. The sound of my blood roaring through my ears was the only thing I could hear, the dry, grittiness of my mouth, as though I'd just swallowed a pile of ashes, was reminiscent of what my life had been reduced to. My life with Maura was once a fire, one that burned brightly, one that shone even during the darkest night, but now it was nothing more than bitter ashes, scattered freely by the wind.

"Jane, Jane," someone was uttering my name, whispering it reassuringly into my ear, their arm around my waist, holding me up even as my body fought to curl in on itself and end its torture. "C'mon Rizzoli, get it together!" The voice I now realised belonged to Susie snapped, losing patience with me.

A hand tapped my cheek forcefully, but not hard enough to mark it. I blinked stupidly, trying to draw my surroundings into focus, and found Doctor Susie Chang looking at me with a mix of exasperation, pity and sadness etched on her face. I groped for her hand and let her pull me into a standing position, where I braced myself against the wall and caught my breath, my cheeks reddening with embarrassment.

I coughed again, eyes watering, "Sorry," I mumbled quietly, still grappling for control over the emotions that had swamped me with no warning as soon as I clapped eyes on Maura Isles. Since she walked out last week I'd put every effort into pushing her from my mind, and most of the time, when I had other things to concentrate on, it almost worked. Seeing her again brought everything back with a vengeance, and I still felt unsteady where I stood.

Susie shook her head sorrowfully, leaving her hand on my arm. It was a gesture I appreciated, it was helping to ground me, "It's okay Jane. Take your time; she's getting all the information from them anyway."

The fact she was being so damned nice to me made it all so much more difficult to handle. If she had shot me that irritated glare and stalked off after her superior I might have been able to shake off this horrendous torrent of emotions currently washing over me, wave after insistent wave. Instead, it was taking the last of my self control not to break down in her arms.

When I eventually regained enough of my bearings to head into the sitting room, Susie was by my side the whole way. She led me to the opposite side of the room from Maura before hurrying off to make her colleague a cup of tea whilst the boys continued to bring her up to speed. As much as I wanted to listen to them to bring the events into clarity, I just couldn't tear my gaze away from her.

Having only seen her in person once in the last year it appeared my eyes desperately wanted to drink their fill in case they had to spend another year without the privilege of marvelling at her. As Korsak, Frost and Frankie went on and on, Maura never once looked at me. I was begging her to with everything inside of me. I was begging her just to look into my eyes and see what I felt, what I've always felt, and just how sorry I was for betraying her. But she didn't. Not even once. And I felt cheated. I felt disgusted with myself.

Frankie finished off the tale by detailing the recording Susie managed to make of Henderson and Myers' meeting just that morning, and Maura shot her fellow Doctor a look that said,_ 'I'm impressed, I'm going to lecture you on your safety, but I'm impressed,'_ and the younger woman blushed furiously behind her glasses.

When Frankie stopped talking and took a gulp of water, Maura wiped her elegant hands on her jeans and then folded them neatly on her lap, staring down at them with marked interest as if the secrets of life were tattooed there on her perfect, flawless skin.

"May I make a suggestion?" she finally asked in a measured tone, and I felt my heart lift and then sink dramatically. At least she was here. At least she was contributing. That had to count for something.

Korsak nodded eagerly, and glanced at Frost, who was also nodding, "Sure Doc," he said, "Go ahead."

Maura bit her lip, running one hand down the front of her hair, apparently considering whether or not her suggestion was about to be shot down or praised, before she then said, "I think we should expose Henderson as soon as possible. I think we should send that recording, which incriminates Taylor, Henderson _and_ Nicholls," she jerked a thumb in Susie's general direction, "To news programmes and papers, just put it out there in every method of communication available to us. Frost can send it anonymously, correct?"

Doctor Isles shot my old partner a hard, fast look and he hesitated only momentarily before nodding his head in agreement, looking pensive. His quick mind was probably already running through what he would have to do to make that possible and ensure it was definitely untraceable.

Frankie stared thoughtfully into space, a gleam sparkling in the eyes that resembled mine to an almost eerie degree. His was an almost childlike excitement. The prospect of finally gaining the upper hand was a sobering, yet encouraging thought.

Korsak rubbed his bearded jaw as he intoned, "And then by extension, Newman's got to start wondering who's onto him... That might put you in danger again Jane," he said, looking directly to me.

That meant every other set of eyes on the room followed, and I felt myself tensing, unused to being so open and vulnerable. Even Maura was gazing at me, her expression impassive. She could have been staring at a goddamn stranger for all the emotion there.

"Let's do it," I said, my voice only breaking very slightly, "He'll work it out sooner or later, but by the time he does I want us to be in a stronger position than where we are now. By getting Henderson, Nicholls and Taylor outta the way we're clearing a path to him."

I tried to catch Maura's eye again, but she was now staring at the wall, her face a blank slate. Something hard and brittle broke off in my chest and pierced directly into my heart. This was my doing. I chose to leave, and I reduced her to this empty shell before me. I destroyed the best thing in my life; I tarnished the beauty within Maura Isles, the beauty and innocence so inherent to her. The thought of never being able to put things right between us was one I simply had to quell immediately before it properly took root in my mind. I had to hope for forgiveness. I had to hope. Who was I without Maura? I was _nothing._

**A/N:** Thank you for being so patient with this story, hope you enjoyed! Thank you for your continued interest and support everyone, it's much appreciated.


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